


We're Just a Couple of Monsters

by Just_Rocket_Science



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Kinda, M/M, POV First Person, The Seduction of Mairon, look i know they're not a wholesome ship but also idc, mechanical cyborg!mairon, melkor is a good bf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-16
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-04-25 08:07:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 27
Words: 53,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22282591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Just_Rocket_Science/pseuds/Just_Rocket_Science
Summary: His eyes pierced into my ëalar like chips of ice, a burning, unwavering intensity flaming within them, marking him out as a different creature entirely than the other Ainur. A creature more beautiful, yet more dangerous, than any of them could ever conceive.***Aka the seduction of Mairon, now with added fluff, drama, and vaguely symbolic flowers!
Relationships: Morgoth Bauglir | Melkor/Sauron | Mairon
Comments: 12
Kudos: 126





	1. Of Flowers and Plans

**Author's Note:**

> I hc that while Mairon was spying for Melkor, he adopted the guise/name of Tevildo to use whenever he wanted to be seen at Melkor's side. So Melkor calls him that, but the Valar/etc. still call him Mairon.
> 
> Also I apologize for any factual errors, I tried to keep it as canon compliant as possible but I did take some creative liberty  
(Title taken from the song Monster by Dodie)

~Melkor~

The wind tore at my hair, sending it writhing like angry serpents around my face. If I had not had a reputation to uphold, I would've laughed out loud at the joy that soaring through the air awakened inside me. Next to me, Tevildo seemed less than amused. In fact, he looked downright miserable. I paused, nervously running a list of everything I could've done to anger him in the past week. Mostly it was trivial things, at least by my standards, such as forgetting to organize my desk or putting the scrolls back onto the self in the wrong order. I cocked my head inquisitively.  
"What?" He jumped as though I had jerked him away from his thoughts, previously blank eyes focusing on me.  
"Nothing." I raised an eyebrow in clear disbelief. He shook his head. "It's not you. Just… thinking."  
"About?"  
He frowned before replying, "The forges. Aulë. Eönwë. This." On the last word, he waved his arm around in emphasis, nearly smacking me in the face. I narrowed my eyes, unsure if that had been on purpose or not.  
"And?"  
"What do you mean and? Do you really think it can go on like this forever? Sooner or later they're going to find out, and then we'll all be fucked." I snorted at his eloquent choice of words.  
"Well, we don't have to worry about it now. We'll deal with it when it comes."  
"Are you honestly proposing that we hinge everything we've worked for over the past few months on our skill at improvising? Are you out of your mind?" Tevildo's face was filled with anguish, and I winced. I hadn't realized exactly how anxious he was about our precarious situation. I chose my next words carefully.  
"Well… if you're really that worried about it, maybe we can arrange a plan? In case we get caught?" He nodded, a smile ghosting his lips. Some of the pent up nervous energy cleared from his face, which I considered as quite an achievement on my part since his natural state of being was pretty much pent up and nervous.  
"Yea. I'll figure something out, just in case. I can brief you on my ideas next time we meet." I could sense that he was already running scenarios through his mind, trying to figure out the best course of action. I smiled at his enthusiasm, enthusiasm directed at arranging a plan of all things. It was honestly kind of endearing.  
"Sounds good to me."

I guided the metal dragon -- one of Tevildo's more fanciful inventions -- down onto an isolated clearing in Yavanna's gardens. The flowers around us trembled as they sensed my power, and I watched, enraptured, as they wilted before my eyes. Despite this being a common occurrence no matter where I went, nature's response to my presence never ceased to send shivers of amazement down my spine. Tevildo slid gracefully off of the dragon. I tried to do the same, but my cloak caught on one of its spines and I stumbled, almost landing headfirst in the grass. A smirk played on Tevildo's lips. I scowled at him, running a finger horizontally across my throat in the universal sign for death. He didn't seem fazed, despite the fact that I could destroy him and everything he loved with a single word. Ungrateful bastard. I could probably lay the world at his feet and he would still bitch and moan about something or another. 

"Hypocrite," He retorted. Right, the mind-reading thing went both ways. I probably shouldn't have forgotten about that.  
"Says the guy who told me that my children weren't allowed on the bed, before letting his fucking wolves climb all over my face when I was trying to sleep." I imperiously untangled my cloak from the dragon's offending spine, fixing Tevildo with a glare.  
"Y'know what, I might actually reconsider the no-children-on-the-bed rule, if by children you didn't mean out of control shadow creatures that keep trying to eat my hair."  
"It's not my fault your hair is so shiny."  
"What, would you prefer I looked like this?" He twirled a strand of his hair in his fingers, shapeshifting it to a truly horrifyingly dull greenish-brown. I grimaced.  
"Fine. I'll train them not to eat your hair. Just for the love of Utumno don't ever curse my eyes with that color again or I may have to end you." Tevildo shifted his hair back to gold, the world's most self-satisfied expression gracing his face.  
"You're so easy to manipulate, it's laughable really." He looked so smug that I was tempted to throw him to my shadow creatures and see whether he was still smiling at the end of it. But then again, Tevildo showing an outward display of any emotion other than irritation or worry was an exceptionally rare occurrence, so I managed to restrain myself. Barely.

-

Despite their tendency to die around me, I actually liked flowers. And usually, if I concentrated hard enough, I could prevent them from reacting so violently to my presence. It helped when Tevildo was around; not that I would ever call his presence calming, exactly, but it did help keep the surrounding plants alive if I tapped into his power. Possibly because of his connection to Yavanna. Almost definitely because of his connection to Yavanna.  
Next to me lay a large pile of various blooms -- mostly black or white because as evil as I was I wasn't about to force Tevildo to wear rainbow flowers on his head in public. I was braiding these blooms into the maia's hair, partially because I found it relaxing, and partially because Aulë had forced Tevildo to agree to come to some kind of summer festival, and he refused to go unless he was certain all the other maiar would fawn over him as though he was Eru descended from the heavens. The vain-ass bitch. His head rested in my lap, eyes closed in a rare display of serenity. I picked up the last flower, -- a red rose -- twirling it my fingers curiously. Red wouldn't match the color scheme he had picked out for his outfit. I kissed the rose, the soft petals brushing my inhumanely cold lips. The flower shivered at my touch. I hummed it's Song, rearranging the notes wherever I wished, bending it to my command until I had total control over it. I murmured a few notes of my Discord, woven in with the plant's Song, and darkness spread over the flower; darkness speckled with stars that glowed as brightly as Tevildo's eyes when he came up with a new invention. Eventually, the rose settled with a sigh, the petals now resembling a starry night sky. I tucked it at the front of Tevildo's crown of flowers; the center of my masterpiece. Tevildo opened his eyes. I noted with satisfaction that their previous innocent green hue had over time faded fully to a fiery red, to contrast with my icy blue. It was one of the few outward signs of his corruption at my hands. The flowers framed his face, accenting his delicate features and sharp smile. I hummed with satisfaction, adjusting the night rose so it was clearly visible amongst the strands of his golden hair. Beautiful. Beautiful, as usual, because let's be honest this is Tevildo we're talking about. There was more chance of my brother suddenly forgiving me and handing over his entire empire for me to rule than Tevildo having a bad hair day. The maia in question sat up, brushing invisible dust off of his shoulders.

"How do I look?" He asked with a raised eyebrow, smirking as though he already knew the answer. I kissed him, cupping his face gently in my hands.  
"Perfect."

-

I melted into the shadows just as Eönwë stepped into the room. Tevildo adjusted the flowers in his hair, expression immediately shifting to one of mild anticipation. I felt him pull his mental shields up, and internally take a deep breath.  
"You ready?" Eönwë grinned, grey-blue eyes sparkling with adoration at the sight of his (friend?). Tevildo nodded.  
"Let's go."  
They slipped out of the room together, Eönwë clasping Tevildo's hand reassuringly. I watched from the shadows as the door closed behind them, leaving me alone in the darkness. 

"The self-righteous bastard," I growled to myself. Saying that I loathed Eönwë didn't quite cover it. He might’ve been a mere maia, unworthy of my attention, but somehow he still managed to irritate the hell out of me with his every move. And not only that, but he seemed to regard my weak spined stickler of a brother as a gift from Eru himself. I hissed in the darkness, shifting into the form of a gigantic, black bat. Eönwë would be crushed with the rest of them if my plan worked. And it would work, because Tevildo had helped me formulate it, and nothing Tevildo did ever went wrong. And when Eönwë was destroyed, the true incarnation of the flame imperishable would be mine, and mine alone. I grinned at the thought, spreading my leathery wings with glee. Nothing would stand in the way of my mission, least of all a lowly maia.

If the celebrating Ainur below had bothered to look up, they would've seen me streaking across the sky as if being chased by the Fëanturi themselves. But they did not bother to look up because they were ignorant fools, all but one of them.  
Tevildo caught my eye from below as I flew. Our gazes locked, red on blue, and I knew that everything was going exactly to plan. The flame imperishable will be mine, and together we would invoke the wrath of fire and ice, scouring the world until everything was marred with possibility and potential. With the flame at my side, I knew that I would be unstoppable. I smiled through my pointed fangs. This war had only just begun, and the Valar were already losing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments/kudos are much appreciated!
> 
> I have a lot of this already written out, so updates should hopefully be quick :)
> 
> And yes in this Eru's flame imperishable is incarnated into an actual person, bet you can't guess who it is... *evil author laugh* im so obvious


	2. Of Hair and Emotions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This bit is pretty short but whatever \o/

~Mairon~

I wove my fingers through my coppery gold hair in a lackluster attempt to comb it out, gritting my teeth at the memory of last night. Eönwë lay next to me, asleep. His chest rose and fell with gentle breaths, and his eyelids fluttered with dreams unknown to me. I wanted to punch him. I think I felt angry. Or maybe it was jealousy; I often had trouble separating between the two. I would have to ask Melkor later on. He was the expert when it came to things like this. 

The first time I had set my eyes upon the dark Vala, had been the first time I felt something, anything more than the dull beating of my heart against my ribcage.  
It had scared me. But it had also felt beautiful. I don't think I was ever the same again after that. Every time I looked at Melkor I felt something. Something I didn't quite understand, but that felt greater than any drug. It was a fluttering in my chest, a quiet hitch of my breath when our gazes met, a fire burning so brightly in my soul that I felt I could outshine even Arien. I asked Eönwë later on, whether Melkor could influence lesser maiar in such a way. Eönwë answered with yes, explaining that the dark Vala changed those around him, bending them to his indomitable will. That had been the first time I had felt doubt. Eönwë had taken my hand, smile comforting, and I had felt that fluttering in my chest again. It had been nowhere near as strong as the rush of strange emotion that had flooded my body when Melkor had locked eyes with me. I didn't say anything more, and Eönwë didn't ask.

I pulled my hands out of my hair, eyes narrowed. This wasn't going to work. I briefly considered simply shapeshifting my hair into a less tangled form, but decided against it, primarily because I wasn't technically supposed to be able to shapeshift, but also because I longed for the feel of actually pulling a brush through my fiery locks, and watching the strands fall around my face like curtains of soft fire. I sighed again, this time in delight at the imagery. Happiness was another emotion I had trouble with, but this time I was sure I had identified it correctly. It felt good. A smile pulled at my lips. I desperately wanted to inform Melkor, so that he could tease me about being a stone-hearted bitch in all subjects other than proper hair care, and I could punch him lightly in the arm, then he would fall back in mock anguish, wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me on top of him to meet his lips with mine and-  
I paused, face blanching of all color.  
"Fuck."  
Now was most definitely not the time for this, especially as Eönwë was lying right next to me, and could easily break through my mental shields in order to read my mind. I slipped off of the bed, shaking silently in discomfort at the direction my thoughts had immediately decided to spiral in. After pulling on a simple white tunic, I grabbed my hairbrush which had been resting on my desk. The rhythmic motion of brushing my hair stilled my racing heart, and I concentrated on the feel of the gentle tugs on my scalp, breathing deeply until I felt in control again.

Once I was sure that my hair was no longer a tangled bird's nest, and that my mind had stopped conjuring up unsavory images of Melkor, I set my brush down onto the table again. Eönwë stirred next to me, opening his eyes and focusing their piercing gaze on me.  
"Hey," he slurred sleepily, eyelids drooping from early morning weariness. I bit my lip. I couldn't help but feel like I was lying to him somehow- and yes, I knew, I knew my dealings with Melkor were none of his business. But despite that, I felt an uncomfortable twisting in my gut when Eönwë rested his head in my lap, and I knew exactly what it meant. Guilt. I decided that I hated it. Maybe I would ask Melkor how to get rid of it later on, but part of me already knew the answer. I gritted my teeth. Soon, our plan would be in action, and I would never have to think about Eönwë's stupid fucking face again. Soon, I would show them all what I was truly capable of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mairon please get therapy I beg you


	3. Of Throne Cuddles and Job Offers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Melkor thinks bird murder is pretty hot :)  
Also I feel like his characterization in the first half of this chapter is off so I might rewrite that in the future oops

~Melkor~

I sat on my throne, wishing for something to come and release me from my boredom. Although, perhaps sat was the wrong word. It was more like lounging. I knew my brother wouldn't be caught dead lounging on anything, which is why I made sure to always do it, and on every possible surface. It annoyed the shit out of everyone in my near vicinity. It was great.  
Just as I was considering going out to find something to destroy, Tevildo stormed in. As per usual, he didn't look pleased.  
"Aulë knows."  
I spat out the wine I was drinking.  
"You're kidding."  
"I wish. He doesn't know the exact situation, but he knows you've been visiting the forges and he knows something's wrong," Tevildo explained. He seated himself in my lap, fidgeting with the multiple golden rings adorning his hands. He was stressed, and I knew it wasn't just because of Aulë. We had a plan for that, we were prepared. There was absolutely zero reason for him to be worried. No, this was something else. I wrapped my arms around his waist, pulling him closer and nuzzling the crook of his neck. He smelled like fire.  
"Anything else on your mind?"  
"No. That's all." He said softly. I noticed he was shivering in my arms. As much as my curiosity was practically yelling at me to push him, to make him tell me, I merely nodded and was silent. If I wanted to keep his loyalty, first and foremost I had to keep his trust. That meant respecting his right to remain silent, as much as it tore at me to do so.  
He rested his head against my shoulder. His hair was tied up, which I disliked, so I pulled at the tie until it came loose. He shifted his position, and his hair dripped mesmerizingly across my shoulder, it's sunset hues contrasting with the stark black of my armor. One strand slipped down his face, and I gently tucked it back behind his ear. He'd stopped shivering, lulled into peacefulness by my presence and the blanket of quietness that lay draped over the throne room. I smiled.  
Tevildo squirmed in my grip, turning to look at me with wide, scarlet eyes.  
"Can I stay here tonight?" he whispered.  
I cocked my head at him inquisitively,  
"Are you sure? Wouldn't it make Aulë even more suspicious if you didn't come back?" then, feeling his body stiffen against mine, I added hastily, "Not because I mind… I just don't want to make the situation worse."  
He snorted. "Since when do you care about not making the situation worse. It's fine though. Good night." He slid off of my lap, expressionless, and headed towards the door. I watched him leave, before my thought process caught up with me and I leapt forwards. My hand grabbed his wrist, and I jerked him around to face me. Before he could scramble away, I pinned him against the wall, growling softly.  
"I do care, when the situation involves you -- but y'know what, fuck that. Stay. I command you to."  
He smirked, and pulled me down.  
"Whatever you wish, my Lord."

~Mairon~

I woke up entangled with Melkor. His dark hair was splayed across the pillow, his eyes closed, and lips parted slightly. I could see his long eyelashes, and trace the faded lines of scars, of stories, that marked his skin. He looked at peace. There was a soft glow of contentment in my chest, and I kissed his forehead in an outburst of emotion, careful not to wake him.  
My eyes travelled to the window next to his bed, and my stomach dropped when I saw a bird perched on the windowsill, eyeing us with disdain. It was a stormy petrel, I guessed, and it was out spying for Manwë. I couldn't let it get back to report. I lunged towards it like a snake striking. It squawked, fighting to get away in a flurry of wings and feathers. I grabbed it and, acting on pure animal instinct, sank my teeth into its neck. It screamed, writhing about for a few seconds, then was still. I looked up, blood dripping from my mouth. Melkor was awake. He was staring at me in absolute adoration. I sat back down on the bed nervously, reaching up to wipe the blood off of my face. He grabbed my arm before I could do so.  
"I knew you weren't just a total stick in the mud," he said, grinning. I glared at him.  
"Oh no, I absolutely am, but that bird was spying for your brother and I couldn't let it get away."  
He tucked a strand of my hair back behind my ear, dropping his head gently in my lap.  
"You didn't need to kill it with your teeth though."  
"It was out of instinct. I didn't do it on purpose."  
He pushed himself up until he was face to face with me, resting his forehead against mine. His eyes pierced into my ëalar like chips of ice, a burning, unwavering intensity flaming within them, marking him out as a different creature entirely than the other Ainur. A creature more beautiful, yet more dangerous, than any of them could ever conceive.  
"I have been thinking," he said.  
"Well that's new," I whispered back. He chuckled.  
"I have been thinking that I need a new lieutenant. A second in command, someone who can manage my armies with skill and precision. Someone I can trust to serve me with eternal loyalty. And I believe that you would be perfect for the role."  
He kissed my blood stained lips before I could formulate a reply. "Think about it, ok?" He slid off of the bed, and strode out of the room, flashing me a confident smirk as he closed the door behind him. I think he already knew what my answer would be. The truth was that I had no idea; I was still trying to process last night, let alone actually giving up my entire allegiance to Aulë to go be Melkor's right hand.  
Right hand. Lieutenant. I suspected that there was more to it than that. I twisted my lips in an anxious, thin smile. This was going to be interesting.


	4. Of Inadequecy and Privacy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alt title: These two need therapy
> 
> TW for (implied?) self harm (its not really described tho) and for Mel attacking Mairon's mind bc he's an idiot with no concept of privacy

~Melkor~

"Mairon? Where were you?"  
"Outside in Yavanna's gardens," Tevildo replied without missing a beat, "I was worried about what Aulë said; I was wondering if something could be invented to keep Melkor out of the forges, would you like to see some of my ideas?" He waved a (blank) piece of paper in Eönwë's face. Eönwë just gently pushed the paper away.  
"Uh, I need to go visit Manwë right now, but I'm free later!" He swallowed nervously, "Oh and- well- can I ask you something?" he finally added. I thought I knew what he was going to ask, and from Tevildo's face I could tell that he knew too.  
"Of course. Is something wrong?"  
"I just- you're not one of Melkor's corrupted Maiar, are you?" Eönwë blurted out, eyes wide and anxious. Tevildo stood stock still, the hurt clearly visible in his gaze.  
"You really think that? You really think that I would join that monster, that abomination, that mistake of Eru?" Even though I knew he was acting, I couldn't help but wince a little at his words.  
"I know, its just- I can't believe any of our maiar would actually do that, I don't know why I asked you in the first place. Sorry."  
"It's fine. I have to go now, see you tonight." Tevildo swept past Eönwë, offering him a comforting twitch of the lips before he rounded the corner, leaving Eönwë staring after him with regret lining his features. I didn't stop to worry about the inferior being, but flew through the shadows after Tevildo, slipping into his room just before he locked the door. He reached for his clothes, then paused, ears perked.  
"Creep." I materialised fully, and shrugged.  
"It's worth it though."  
"Shut up and go away."  
"You're such a loving partner, y'know."  
"Partner? Oh you wish. I still haven't agreed to officially join you."  
"Yea, but I already know what your answer will be so do you even really need to say it?"  
He glared at me, then sighed in defeat.  
"Just get out. I need to change for forgework. And stop stalking me." He pulled the door open for me, and I stepped out perhaps a little more slowly than necessary.  
"Do I have to-"  
"Yes." I could tell from his expression that he wasn't budging. I raked my fingers gently through my dark hair, then shrugged, accepting my fate.  
"I can't believe I came all this way, risking my life to see you, and you won't even talk to m-" He slammed the door in my face. Something was up. And this time I wasn't going to let him hide it from me, whether that meant losing his trust or not.

I turned to face the -- now locked -- door. It was made out of a smooth, but beautifully russet colored wood, cherry, perhaps. I pressed my hand flat against it, running my fingers over what was once a living tree, but was now condemned to be a slave to the Valar. My fingertips searched for knots in the wood, or scars, or blemishes, or anything else that had escaped the unceasing perfection of Valinor. Anything that indicated that a long time ago this had been a tree, a living, breathing organism with a Song of its own. I found one. A tiny knot, that was free from the influence of the Valar. I pressed my fingers against it, humming my Discord, breathing my essence into the wood like I had done with the flower. I was successful. The door yielded to my power, and burst into fragments that would have imbedded themselves in Tevildo and I had I not deflected them. Once the splinters and sawdust had cleared, they revealed Tevildo staring at me in horror.  
Before he had a chance to flee, I jumped towards him, grabbing his head in my claws. I growled when he struggled, whimpering at me to let go. I tightened my grip, and slammed myself against his mental shields. He cried out in pain, writhing to get away, but he was no match for my power. His shields were strong, I gave him that, but eventually they shattered and broke to pieces beneath my vicious attacks. I knew I had gotten through when he collapsed in my arms, blood dripping from his nose and staining his clothing. I padded through his mind, hunting for the reason, any reason, why he would dare kick me out of his room. I found nothing that could warrant it, just a desire for isolation that was prevalent in all corporeal beings. But no, that didn't make sense. Why would anyone want isolation from me? I frowned, and continued slithering between his thoughts, now looking for something else. Ah yes-- there. This time I found it. His strangely out of character willingness to spend the night with me during his last visit made a lot more sense now. I dived into the memory.

-

_"So, let's address the elephant in the room I suppose -- who will you promote to your side?" Yavanna sat down at the edge of the table, eyeing her husband with curiosity.  
"I don't know. Well, I do, but there's two Maiar and I don't know which one to pick," Aulë replied. His fingers drummed the table, in tune with the ever changing, ever fluid ocean of stones and metals that was his body. Yavanna inclined her head, waiting.  
"It's Mairon and Curumo."  
"I see."  
"Look, I know that the obvious choice is Mairon. He has more raw talent than any other Maia. But- well-- it's just that he's so distant. And Curumo's, well, Curumo. Everyone loves him, he has a way with crowds. I guess it comes down to whether you value academic or social skills more," Aulë chuckled, “Imagine if you could combine the two; you’d have the perfect Maia.”  
Yavanna tilted her head thoughtfully, and a couple of petals floated down, loosened from her hair.  
"Imagine if you could? Mairon doesn't have much power, does he? Not like, say, Eönwë. He's just a ridiculously hard worker, that's all. If you could get Curumo to put in the same effort, you'd have the perfect Maia. Oh Eru, imagine Curumo actually working for once. He’s the laziest Maia i’ve ever met, and that’s saying something."  
"I see your point. I guess the answer is obvious, in that case."  
“Yes, I daresay it is.”  
Their conversation continued, but I stiffened behind the door, heart racing, and clamped my hands over me ears, refusing to listen any further. I had heard enough. They were going to get rid of me. They were going to get rid of me, and replace me with that idiot Curumo. A strange emotion flooded my senses. I almost laughed out loud. My limbs shook, and when I reached up to touch my face it was wet with strange tears. Control, I muttered to myself, stay in control. But I couldn't, because they were going to replace me, the only people I had ever wanted the approval of, the only people I had ever truly wanted to love me, thought I was an antisocial bitch. I staggered up, head reeling; there was a sick feeling in my stomach and I coughed up bile. No, this couldn't be happening, they couldn't be throwing me away like this, they couldn't. My knees finally gave way when I reached my room, and I wretched, shivering with hate, with, anger, because I wasn't good enough. I had strived for perfection all my life, and yet those long, arduous hours spent in the forge working when everyone else had gone to rest, those painstakingly drawn diagrams of plans, those meticulously written, pages and pages of ideas, so many that they filled two of the cupboards in my room, killing myself with sleepless nights trying to improve all my projects until I was content, despite knowing that I would never be satisfied. None of them were worth it. None of them were good enough, none of them were perfect, because I wasn't perfect. I could never be perfect, but in this world the Valar had built nothing short of perfect was accepted, and what did that make me? A failure, a fucking idiot who tried too hard and still fell flat on his face while everyone laughed. I clawed at myself, shaking in horror at what I was, at what I could never be. Yavanna's words spun around in my head like a mantra, and I clung to them in desperate hope that I could fix what was wrong with me, just like I had fixed the broken junk that Aulë's apprentices sent me in the forge. I raised my head, and my eyes caught on my hammer and toolset. Yes, I could fix myself. I was better at forgework than any other Maia Aulë had ever recruited. This was simply another project, another raw piece of metal that could be shaped into something beautiful. Something perfect. I took a deep breath and, hand shivering in anticipation of what I was about to do, I reached for my hammer. After holding it in the fire to bring it to a perfect heat, I lifted it over the delicate fingers on my dominant left hand, and noticed with morbid fascination that I had stopped shaking.  
“It’s just another broken piece of junk,” I whispered to myself. Despite my iron resolve, I hesitated in a moment of weakness. My body was frozen, and I could not get it to move. I cried out in despair. My eyes closed, and I dimly felt the caged, desperate fluttering of my ëalar. My very being was trying to tell me something. I ignored it; it was inconsequential to my end goal. Deep breaths. Control. I was beyond this, I was beyond myself. I would force my body into perfection. “They’re wrong. I’m better than them, I’m better than all of them,” I murmured, barely audible, my voice a gentle reverberation echoing through the room. The words felt dry, meaningless in my mouth. It didn’t matter. None of it mattered. I brought the hammer down, expression impassive, and didn’t flinch at the heat of its fire. Nothing came without a price, but I knew that in the end everything would be worth it._

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *shrugs* I would say im sorry but im not really


	5. Of Music and Excuses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's some fluff to make up for the mess that was the last chapter!

~Melkor~

I tore away from Tevildo's mind. Tears dripped down my face, as I cradled his head softly in my arms, whispering promises against his skin. His eyes flickered upwards to look at me.  
"I know this may be hard for you to understand, but isolation means alone, and that includes alone from you, despite whatever you might think." his voice was quiet, pained from the invasion of his mind.  
"Do you want to talk about it?" I whispered, my eyes darting across his face, searching for an idea of how he was going to react.  
"What is there to talk about?' he sighed, "You shouldn't have done that."  
"I know, I-"  
"No, Melkor, listen to me. You need to learn that just because you're the most powerful of the Ainur you don't own everything. You can't just barge into someone's room, and especially not their mind like that. It hurts. It really hurts. I thought I could trust you to respect my privacy, but I should've known damn well that you wouldn't." Despite his biting words, there was no fight in his voice. I had drained it all away. My heart clenched in my chest, tears now falling freely from my eyes. I wanted to help him, so, so badly, but, just like the flowers, I knew everything I touched would wither and die. I would destroy it all, just as I was destined to.  
"I'm so sorry, I didn't think-"  
"I know you didn't think," he interrupted quietly, "you wouldn't have done it otherwise."  
There was silence. I opened my mouth, thinking desperately for something to say that could fix this, but nothing came out, and I closed it again. Finally I took a deep breath, and tried again.  
"You’re already perfect, y’know. At least to me. There's nothing about yourself you need to fix, despite whatever those assholes think."  
Tevildo gazed up at me with hope, before turning away.  
"S'fine. As much of a broken idiot I am, at least I'm still better than you." He twisted his lips into something mildly resembling a smile. I knew he was still hurting, but at least he was trying. I shrugged.  
"I mean, you're not wrong."  
"Really? You're agreeing with me?"  
"Yea."  
"I suppose it's the least you can do after that."  
I hummed in agreement, my stomach dropping when he instinctively turned his head away from me. We lay like that in fragile, brittle peace for a while, watching the dim light of the Lamps filter in through the cracks in the closed shutters. Tevildo’s breathing was shallow, and his face flushed with a fever that hadn’t been there before. Worry stabbed at my chest. I wiped the blood smeared across his face away, brushing my lips against his in a self-indulgent attempt to comfort him. To my distress he pulled away, and I almost forced him back, but then stopped, feeling guilt wreath through me.  
“Sorry,” I whispered, not daring to meet his gaze for fear of what I might find there. He shook his head, closing his eyes in listless exhaustion. The silence crept back in. Minutes passed. The stillness tortured me with its punishing claws, until I couldn’t bear it any longer. I needed sound, I needed energy, I needed life. On a whim, I started humming the first few notes of my Discord. To my surprise Tevildo joined in, his voice still faint, but increasing in strength with every note. He didn’t sing the exact same music as me, but a twisted version of it, still recognisable as my Discord yet with Tevildo’s own Song interspersed throughout to give it a melancholy, almost caged quality. It contrasted strangely with the tumultuous, frenzied, hot mess that was my original Discord. At first I was certain that the dissonance between our songs would be too much, but as we sang I found that we were able to harmonize with barely any thought. His Song backed up mine, strengthened it, yet mine never outshone his, we remained perfectly synchronized as the melodies wove between us, sending shivers of ecstasy down my spine. It was perfect. The Music roared to a crescendo, we were all but shouting now, and Tevildo’s usually smooth voice gave way to something more hoarse, more raw. My fingers were tangled in his hair, and he didn’t try to stop me, instead leaning breathlessly into my touch. I knew he’d forgiven me, as little as I deserved it. Our distinct versions of my Discord gradually melded together, and by the time we could no longer tell them apart Tevildo was sitting upright in my lap, my face cupped in his delicate hands, ëalar shimmering with the bittersweet echoes of our Song. I wasn’t singing with my voice anymore either, but with my ëalar. The melody undulated through me, shivering at such a frequency that I shone with an achingly bright luminescence. My light was not light as the Valar knew it, but something beyond the perception of the Children of Eru; something dark and burning that ripped through atoms, ensuring chaos in my wake, filling everything with such imperfect potential that the very fabric of reality shuddered in trepidation. I knew Tevildo, unlike the Children and the Valar, could see it, could see me for what I was. He cried out in terror and agony at the vicious glow spilling from my ëalar, but didn’t turn away, locking his eyes on mine and digging his nails into my skin as his fana was ripped away. To my surprise his light was not drowned out, but roared aflame until I could feel the heat writhing around my cold. Our Music convulsed, shivering, and twisted into silence, leaving us panting in the wake of frenetic joy. Tevildo’s skin was flushed, and his eyes burned with an exhilarated abandon that I had never witnessed in him before.  
“What the fuck.”  
I jerked around, Tevildo slipping out of my arms with an indignant yelp. Eönwë stood in the doorway. Shit. His pretty face was torn with horror. The moment Tevildo realised who it was, he stood up, the movement smooth, calculated. He met Eönwë’s gaze with a slightly tilted head, position remaining unwavering other than when he lifted his arm to brush invisible dust off of his robes. Part of me knew my presence here right now was not helping, but also I really wanted to see Eönwë get dissed, so naturally I planned to stay.  
_“Go.”_ I heard Tevildo’s voice in my mind. It was the first time he had actually used our bond to talk, rather than simply relay information or emotions. His mind’s voice was warm, like liquid honey, and hearing it echoing through my mind sent a mellow feeling stirring in my heart. _“Well? I said go?”_ Tevildo sounded frustrated now, but I shrugged.  
_“Do I have to?”_  
_“I can get us out of this; I made a plan, remember? But I need you to leave or- or at least disappear - first.”_  
_“Fine. I trust you, I guess.”_ I smiled softly at him, and he nodded back. Resisting the urge to stick my tongue out at Eönwë, I resorted to merely glaring at him, and disintegrated into dark shadows. I knew Tevildo would be fine on his own; he always was.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _Of course, I didn’t actually leave, but hung somewhere around Tevildo’s feet in a non-corporeal state. It was a pleasant change after my regular form, and I almost stretched, before remembering that I didn’t actually have any limbs to stretch.  
“Explain.” The vibrations of Eönwë’s voice drew me back to the conversation, and I longed to see his face if only to snicker at the mournful expression I knew would be on it. My one regret about having to remain invisible was the side effect of being blind. Stupid physics, I thought to myself, fluttering around Tevildo’s legs to let him know I was dissatisfied, and that this had better be good. I don’t think he noticed.  
“This is not what you think,” Tevildo said; his voice was slightly higher pitched and smoother than Eönwë’s, it’s frequency sending tremors through my ëalar.  
“Oh really. Couldn’t think of something more cliche to say?” Eönwë’s tone wavered with a sob, and I realised he must’ve been crying. What an idiot.  
“It is simply the truth.”  
“What are you doing, then, if not fraternizing with the enemy.” I shook in a silent chuckle at his use of the word fraternizing, and I sensed Tevildo barely managing not to do the same.  
“I am trying to gain his trust,” he said, after a moment's pause.  
“Oh really. And why would you want to do that?”  
“It seems quite clear to me; if I have his trust, he will tell me things that we would have no other way of finding out. Plans. Weaknesses. This could be the way we take him down,” he said simply, and I had to admit that he was doing a delightful job. Perhaps we wouldn’t have to deal with the consequences of this after all. Eönwë hesitated. I could feel Tevildo holding his breath above me, the tension hung thick in the air, curling around us, trapping us in the room until I could barely breathe with apprehension. Then, something broke. I heard the bed creak with movement - did they just kiss? If I’d had one I would’ve made a face.  
“I believe you.” Eönwë spoke so faintly that a lesser being might have missed it. There was the rustling of fabric, and Tevildo spoke in my mind again.  
“You’d better get out of here,” he said. His mental voice shimmered with exhaustion, and I felt an inexplicable urge to hug him. After mentally shaking myself to get rid of the feeling, I replied in the affirmative.  
“Ok. See ya.” Then, as an afterthought, “Don’t listen to Aulë and Yavanna, by the way. They’re both bitches.”  
“So are you.”  
“Maybe, but I’m a hot bitch so it doesn’t count.”  
“Not even going to argue. See you later.” He shut off the connection. I was about to slip out of the room, when Eönwë spoke.  
“Oh, by the way, Mai. What happened to the door?” There was silence. Shoot. As much of a genius as Tevildo was, I guessed that his plan hadn’t taken into account my random acts of violence. He paused, but when he spoke his voice was untroubled.  
“Well… do you remember those ideas I wanted to show you earlier?”  
“Yeah?”  
“They didn’t quite work out the way I intended.” Eönwë burst out laughing, and I relaxed. My fault for underestimating my maia. I flitted towards the nearest open window in the hallway, and slid outside, finally letting my invisibility fall and melting into the shadows.  
It wasn’t until later that I realised how quickly I had come to think of Tevildo as my maia. I mean, I was technically the king of Arda so I technically owned everything and everyone on it, but I preferred not to associate things with myself in the safety of my own thoughts, just in case. Maybe it was trust issues. Maybe I needed therapy. Maybe it was just one of my many quirks. But when I associated things I liked with myself in my own head, it scared me. Because that meant I was attached, and that meant that whatever it was was going to get demolished, and it was going to be my fault. The last time I had gotten attached had been to these sick as fuck, giant reptiles created close after the creation of Arda. They had apparently been a failed experiment on Nienna’s part. Those reptiles didn’t exist anymore.  
Strangely enough, I felt none of this fear when I thought of Tevildo as my maia. Just.. a sense of rightness. Of warmth. As I was wont to do, I didn’t give it much thought. But that night, basking in the glow of Illuin seeping through my window, I was happier than I had been for a long time._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Melkor u lovesick fool get it together man


	6. Of Creatures and Happiness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thought I was ignoring canon before? Well now I've reached a new low and boy am I proud of it.

~Mairon~

I swung the fiery whip at Melkor, the edge hissing through the air. He grinned, then disappeared, and I stumbled forwards in surprise. The whip sailed harmlessly through the space where he’d been moments before, and twisted towards me instead, grazing my leg. I jumped back in instinct, and suddenly there was a blade at my throat.  
“I win,” Melkor said, “again.”  
“Yes, I can see that.” I pushed his knife away from me, running my fingers through my hair to ensure that every strand was still in its place.  
“Is the Valar’s combat training really this awful? No wonder they still haven’t been able to beat me.”  
“No, it’s not this awful, at least that’s what I’m assuming since I’ve never actually gone.” I replied, inspecting the scratch on my leg from my horrific failure. He tilted his head in mild surprise.  
“Why not? Too busy working?”  
“Yes, actually. I have better things to do than wave a sword around for an hour every day hoping that it will miraculously smack someone in the face.” I was only partly joking, but he laughed anyway.  
“That’s what you think combat is?”  
“Is that not what it is?” This time I attempted to interject a more playful inflection into my voice, but it must not have worked, because I could see Melkor struggling to hide his laughter.  
“You really don’t get out much, do you?”  
“Well I don’t see why I should. Aulë forces me out enough that I have at least some idea of what goes on in the world, and that is all I need. Plus it means that I do not have to interact with the general public, and that is most definitely a good thing.” He still did not seem to be taking me seriously, but I supposed that my love of work simply could not be appreciated by everyone.  
“I’m not saying you should interact with the general public; they’re all idiots anyway, but, like, maybe do something else other than work once in a while? Like, something fun?”  
I raised an incredulous eyebrow, “...Fun?”  
“Yea, fun. F. U. N-”  
“Yes I know what the word fun means.” Did he think I was actually that stupid? I observed his expression. No, he seemed to be joking. “S’not a very funny joke, if that’s what you were trying to achieve,” I muttered. He shrugged, nonchalant.  
“I wasn’t joking. I’m serious. We should totally go out and, I dunno, do something reckless and impulsive. Oh! What if we set-”  
“I’m busy later. Sorry.” I interrupted, shifting my stance uncomfortably. I expected him to protest, but he didn’t. Instead he just slid his hand into mine, easing the whip from my grasp, letting it drop to the dusty floor. The whole time, his eyes were fixed on mine, gaze shimmering in curiosity.  
“Then come now. I want to show you something.” I stood still. Aulë would kill me if I was late. But I looked at Melkor, and something in his hopeful expression made me want- well- I wasn’t sure what it made me want. Maybe the more time I spent with him, the closer I would be to finding out. Plus there was still some time before I was needed back in the forges. My hand relaxed into his, and I kissed him, brushing our foreheads together.  
“Ok then. But make it quick,” I said. He nodded, eyes shining.  
Melkor led me out of the courtyard, grinning maniacally in a way that set me slightly on edge. We stepped into the tortuous mass of black stone that was the great fortress of Utumno. The corridors were bare rock, cold, menacing. Devoid of all life but the twisted shadows that scampered lifelessly alongside us. Further in, tapestries covered the naked walls. They did not depict any specific scene, but shimmered with the ever-changing storm of existence, the beasts of Life and Death locked in a shifting hurricane of angry swirls of color and gentle drips of darkness. I longed to study them, to run my fingers across their stories, to understand them, but when I brushed my hand against one the material slipped from my grasp, as intangible as the emotions that Melkor had tugged into being within me. Lost in thought, I didn’t realize Melkor had stopped, and crashed into his back, sending him stumbling forward. He glared at me for a moment with the air of a disgruntled cat, but then his eyes flickered towards the door he had stopped infront of, and the excitement was back in his demeanor. He was so easy to read sometimes, I thought dimly to myself, then wondered if that was altogether a bad thing.  
“You’re gonna love this,” he purred with an almost feverish exuberance, and pushed the door open. It revealed a solid, darkly colored wall. The wall wasn’t exactly pure black, but shimmered with iridescent light that sent colors leaping across the corridor. The effect was rather pleasing to the eye, and was an example of truly delightful craftsmanship. Despite this, I didn’t see how it warranted such excitement; I could probably have made it myself. I turned back to face Melkor, skeptical.  
“Well, I must admit that it is a lovely wall.”  
“Not a wall.” he leaned forward, and rapped it gently with his knuckles. It shifted with a low growl, and I hissed in surprise, stepping instinctively behind Melkor. The wall swung around, shaking loose vast wings similar to those of a bat. The movement sent a kaleidoscope of vivid hues spinning across what I now realized was a living, breathing creature. It nudged its head towards me with a flourish that distinctly reminded me of Melkor, and fixed me with dull, grey eyes. “Meet Ancalagon.” Melkor’s eyes flickered with radiance at the sight of the creature. He reached out a hand, and Ancalagon bumped it gently with his broad snout. Melkor giggled, and kissed the creature on the nose with slightly more vigor than was strictly necessary. He then stepped backwards to my side, and motioned for Ancalagon to follow. The creature seemed uncertain about my presence, and reached out its unnaturally long neck to sniff my face. “He’s a friend, come on, don’t worry,” Melkor murmered, tugging on the creature’s golden collar. Encouraged, Ancalagon stepped out of the room, ducking under the doorway. As his entire body came into view, recognition stirred in my chest. He was about the size of a small elephant, and fit barely in the corridor. A crown of glittering spines adorned his back and head, and everything about him seemed to gleam with the same baleful light that I had observed in Melkor’s ëalar. He moved, and a jolt of metallic color shot across his reptilian scales, lighting his body as the aurora across the night sky. The one thing that seemed out of place was his eyes; they sucked light into them, while the rest of his form emanated it just like Varda’s stars. He stared at me with those eyes now. Empty, soulless, cold. I found myself taking a step back, the fire within me rejecting Ancalagon’s raw chill. It was strangely beautiful.  
“It’s a dragon,” I said, not quite sure how else to react. “A live one.”  
“Yup.”  
“How? You don’t even have the blueprints for how I made the mechanical version.”  
“Don’t need them. As for the how, the answer is gene voodoo and a concerning amount of experimentation. Also, y’know. Ainu powers.” He shrugged, “Do you like it?”  
I didn’t reply, but reached up to stroke Ancalagon’s snout. The dragon looked almost exactly like my invention, just slightly smaller. He seemed to have become accustomed to my presence now, and hummed with content at my touch. He was perfect. This was perfect. I choked back a sob.  
“What do you want from me?”  
“What?” Melkor cocked his head in puzzlement.  
“What do you want from me.” I repeated. He stepped towards me, but I shifted away.  
“Why would I want something from you?”  
“Why else would you do this? What do you want. I’m not angry, I swear, I just want to know the truth.” Melkor stared at me incredulously, and I felt a brief twinge of what I had come to identify as fear that I had hurt him somehow. Luckily instead of anger, it was realization that was lighting up his eyes.  
“You have self-esteem issues!” He blurted out.  
“What- no- what the fuck why would you even think that-”  
“You do! Oh Eru you totally do! That explains everything!” He crowed with an obnoxious self-congratulatory tone that made me want to jump out of the nearest window. I gritted my teeth, closing my eyes in frustration.  
“Are you done?” I muttered, hugging my arms against my torso in a futile attempt to stop myself from shaking. He paused, and I felt his arms encircle me, pulling me against his chest. I was still annoyed at him, but I also craved the physical contact so I didn’t pull away.  
“How did you even get that idea anyway,” I murmured.  
“I made Ancalagon for you because I like you, dumbass. I don’t want anything from you- well, I do, I guess, but like, that’s not the important thing here. And I mean you’re still gonna be my lieutenant and shit, and I still want you to do that, scratch that, I _really_ want you to do that- but- well- that’s not the main reason I swear-” He was rambling. I rose up on my tiptoes, and kissed him. He shut up.  
“Sorry. I guess I never thought you would actually be capable of just being nice with no ulterior motive. Consider that theory disproven.” He raised a hand to stroke my hair, snickering as though he knew something I didn’t,  
“So it has nothing to do with the fact that you feel you don’t deserve anything nice unless you’re giving something in return?” I frowned, then laughed, swatting his intruding hand away.  
“If you could stop psychoanalyzing me, that would be great. Because you’re really bad at it.”  
“Mm.” He opened his mouth as if to say something, but was distracted by Ancalagon butting his snout against Melkor’s shoulder.  
“He wants attention,” I remarked, observing the scene with a faintly concealed smile.  
“Wonder who that reminds me of.” I didn’t reply, but ran my hand across the scales on Ancalagon’s face. They were sharp, and shimmered with color; deadly, but beautiful. I tilted my head towards Melkor. Only now was the magnitude of exactly what he’d done dawning on me.  
“You created an entire new species.” My voice wavered strangely.  
“Uh-huh.”  
“For… me?”  
“Uh-huh.”  
“Thank you.” He shifted his attention from Ancalagon to me, tracing the lines of my face with his delicate claws. I wanted to say something more. My chest and throat were strangely tense; it was as though there was a plant growing inside of me, curling its roots within my lungs and pressing its leaves against the walls of my chest until I almost collapsed in maniacal shivers. It was feverish, invigorating, like my ëalar was ramming at the cage of my mortal form and spilling out in the form of my racing heart and a mess of jumbled words that I knew I could never speak out loud. I would’ve said that I felt sick, but sickness was supposed to hurt, to cause pain, but this thing inside me did just the opposite. I wanted Melkor to know how grateful I was, how knowing that he’d done this, that he’d created this beautiful monster just for me, just because he wanted to, made me long to cry and laugh and sob until I collapsed trembling on the floor. I wanted to say it, I _needed_ to say it. I opened my mouth, and faltered. The words were simply not there. They didn’t exist, not in this language or any other spoken tongue.  
“You ok?” Melkor tipped his head, perhaps noticing my sudden change in demeanor. I gazed sorrowfully up at him, wishing I could tell him everything, wishing I could explain this intoxicating illness that cursed me. It was a wish that could not be fulfilled. I collapsed against him, mewling in desperation through my tears.  
“Oh- wow- ok-” he stiffened in uncertainty, giving me a tentative and perhaps slightly awkward hug, “Is- is this a good kind of crying, or a bad kind?” He asked, then winced at his own question. I looked up at him through wide eyes.  
“I don’t know. Good, I think.” I replied eventually. Ah, Eru, I was such a mess. Thank god Aulë couldn’t see me now.  
“So you’re happy about Ancalagon?” His tone had a slightly anxious inflection to it.  
“This is happiness? Holy shit, I think I am.” So that was the word. Perhaps what I was feeling those few days ago after waking up next to Eonwe hadn’t been happiness per se after all, but just a gentle feeling of contentedness. This was different. This was so much more.  
“If you can spare another hour or so, I would love to have you, y’know.” The offer sent the feeling - happiness - writhing through me again. He kissed me, purring, and I relaxed. I guess I didn’t need to verbally say my emotions after all. He knew, and he understood. I glanced out of one of the small windows lining the corridor. The light of Ormal was still strong; I still had time.  
“I don’t see why not.” My reply was made with no hesitation. Melkor grinned in return, eyes lighting up as they often did when he got what he wanted, and I watched, content, as he attempted to usher Ancalagon back into his room. Sadly, the dragon had other plans. They wrestled around for a bit, with Melkor emerging victorious and cackling wildly. It made me laugh as well, but my laughter dissolved into a squeal when Melkor scooped me up bridal- style. I tore at his grip half-heartedly, then promptly gave up when he kissed me again. The dumbass could have his way this time. Plus, even if I did end up being late, Aulë could wait. I had more important things to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok I know Ancalagon wasn't the first dragon, but this is my explanation:  
Mel is an idiot and while trying to make the perfect dragon for his boyfriend, he kind of fails quite a few times. So Glaurung was the first failed 'test' I guess, and hence why he's the first dragon, but also why he doesn't have wings. But Mel loves him all the same :)


	7. Of Sleep and Tardiness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is so fluffy I hate it

~Melkor~

Tevildo’s body fit perfectly beside me. He was curled up like a cat, half-asleep, head buried against my neck in a distinctly animalistic way. I raised a hand, and stroked his hair. Currently the strands were a muted gold, flecked with embers of fire that danced in a dizzying fashion. My hand traveled down to his face. He turned his head to nuzzle my palm, melting into my touch in a way that no one else did, that sent thrills of rare fondness down my spine. I brushed my thumb across his almost feverishly warm lips, entranced by the freckles interspersed across his skin like gold dust, by the curl of the long eyelashes resting on his heated skin. His eyes flickered open, pupils contracting as they got used to the sudden onslaught of light. His eyes were filled with pools of flame that trickled into his surroundings, setting everything alight with the Flame in his ëalar that I had craved since I had discovered its existence. I had planned to take it by force, I was going to take it by force, but when I had realized that he was equally infatuated with my power, I had begun to wonder if I could use him in more ways than just for his Flame. And, I had to admit, he’d intrigued me. A maia with so much wasted potential, a little flame stifled by those around him. I had been captivated. He was like me, yet also somehow my polar opposite. It also helped that he was really fucking hot.  
“I like you,” I breathed against his collarbone, stroking his bare skin with a light touch. He nudged his forehead sleepily against my chest as a reply.  
“Was’ the time?” he mumbled eventually, twisting away from my grasp to look out the window. It was currently covered by a large, black curtain, and Tevildo hesitated, presumably because he was unwilling to get out of the comfortable bed to go open it. Taking advantage of the pause, I grabbed his head and tugged it back to face me.  
“It doesn’t matter. The forges can wait. I, on the other hand, cannot, due to my extreme lack of patience that you keep complaining about.”  
“The forges have already been waiting for what- two hours now? I have to go.” I didn’t want him to go. Preferably ever. He sat up, glaring at me. I wrapped my arms around his waist, burying my head against his back.  
“No.”  
“Yes.”  
“Uh uh.”  
“Melkor, I have to go.”  
“No.” I was fully aware of how whiny my voice sounded, but I also didn’t really care. I wanted him to stay so he was going to stay. I nipped Tevildo’s neck with my teeth, perhaps slightly more forcefully than was acceptable, and he gasped in mortification. “Oops.” I offered him a lopsided grin. He scowled.  
“First of all, that’s going to leave a mark, second of all, will you please grow up?”  
“Good and no,” I responded, kissing the spot I had just bitten.  
“You’re not gonna let me go, are you.”  
“Nope.”  
“Ugh,” He groaned in frustration, letting himself fall back onto the bed. I interpreted this as him giving up, and eased my hold on his waist.  
“See, was that so hard now?”  
“Just open the curtain, please.”  
I sighed, then waved my hand in the general direction of the curtain, humming a bit of its Song. It slid open with a shiver, letting the blue light of Illuin spill into the room. Tevildo stared in horror, then jerked away from me, tumbling off of the bed. “Shit!” He grabbed his discarded clothes off of the floor, and pulled them on.  
“What happened?” I rolled onto my back, stifling a yawn. Yup, Tevildo still looked just as pretty while upside down.  
“I am so late; oh Eru I am so so late.” his voice trembled, and he rushed towards the door. Just before he reached it I gestured with my hand, and it slammed shut. He whirled around, eyes wide with anger.  
“Tevi, calm down- what even is the thing you’re late to?” I pulled myself into a vaguely upright position, blinking drowsily at my maia.  
“It’s- Aulë wanted to meet him. To talk. About my ideas.”  
“And do you genuinely want to go?”  
“I don’t know,” came the almost automated reply. I patted the bed next to me, inviting him to come sit down next to me. He exhaled, then trudged away from the door, perching himself on the edge of the bed.  
“You sure?” I coaxed. He furrowed his brow, running a hand through his hair, letting it spill across his shoulders.  
“I do want to show him my plans. I worked hard on them.”  
“...but?”  
“But I feel they may not elicit the approval I need.” I pulled him closer to me, resting his head against my shoulder. His body radiated heat like a furnace, one of the side-effects of being a forge maia. It felt like I was holding a live fire.  
“Why not? I’m sure they’re amazing.”  
“Aulë doesn’t think so. He says they’re good, but far too outlandish. He says I need to walk before I can run.” I snorted,  
“Well that’s a load of bullshit.”  
“Mm.”  
“I say we could build them, no matter how crazy. Aulë also called your dragon outlandish, and look where we are now,” then I added, as an afterthought, “Could you show me the blueprints if you have them?” Tevildo jumped upright, expression glowing with elation.  
“Really?”  
“I mean if you want to.” I had to admit, he had piqued my interest. I unlocked the door with a snap of my fingers. “Go get them. I have a feeling they would be of far more use here than in Valinor.” He dipped his head, rushing back towards the door. Just before he exited the room, he turned back to look at me. Mischief flashed in his eyes.  
“Oh, by the way, I have an answer to that oh so important question of yours.” I perked up, heart fluttering in anticipation.  
“And?”  
“I’ll tell you when I get back.” he smiled sweetly, and was gone in a flash of golden hair. Not before I chucked the nearest object at him, though. The twisted piece of iron that was supposed to resemble a crown crashed harmlessly into the wall, and Tevildo’s laughter echoed through the corridor in response. Bitch. He had a nice laugh. I should try to make him laugh more often.rridor in response. Bitch. He had a nice laugh. I should try to make him laugh more often. I relaxed backwards into the bed, watching my hair billow out around me like a veil of night. Hopefully Tevildo would be quick; not just because I was curious about his ideas, but because I really wanted to know his answer. The confidence I had originally felt on the topic had by this point simmered away, and I felt dread coiling in my stomach. I wasn’t sure what I would do if he said no. 


	8. Of Statues and Lies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is really short but im tired so cut me some slack ok

I crashed through the door to my room, fluttering with happiness. After dissolving into a corporeal form, I rushed towards my drawers, and flung them open. Papers flowed everywhere. I growled in frustration; none of these were the ones I wanted. I turned, and hurled the cupboards open instead. Ah yes- there! I grabbed the rolls of parchment, all bundled neatly together with a blue ribbon. I spun towards the door, already sprinting forwards, and slammed into a wall of stone. No, not a wall. I looked up to meet Aulë’s flaming eyes.  
“Mairon. Where were you? It’s not like you to be late to, well, anything.” Thousands of excuses ran through my head. I inhaled, standing up straight, letting the impassiveness, the hollowness, flow through me. It felt familiar, but also so, so wrong. Like coming back to your childhood home and finding out that it had been turned into a slaughterhouse. I blinked up at Aulë.  
“My Lord, I apologize. I was so absorbed in my work that I lost track of time." I expected him to simply nod understandingly and leave me be, but instead he rested a large hand on my back.  
"Walk with me, Admirable One." His voice echoed through my bones, through the Earth that was apart of his essence. I nodded, a strange serpent coiling in my stomach. Dread. I ignored it. He led me outside, into Yavanna's gardens. Neither of us spoke, until we reached a secluded corner of the garden. It was overgrown, unusual for Yavanna, and covered in a mess of thorned roses. In the middle of it all was a cracked, stone bench, partially coated in moss and fungi. Aulë led me over to it, and we both sat down. The moss was soft and dry, yet I still felt the uncomfortable dread curling within me. Just as I thought he had brought me here to just sit and do nothing, he lifted his hand. Stone and steel dripped from his fingers, and the world caved to his command. The roses shuddered, and tore themselves apart to reveal a statue. My heart fluttered at the sight of it, and I realized that I recognised who was depicted in the stone. Melkor. They'd gotten his eyes wrong, I thought dimly to myself. They weren't shimmering red rubies like the ones used in the statue, but diamonds of clear sky, of frost and ice that chilled the bone. "You recognise him." Aulë’s voice reverberated through the earth.  
“Yes, of course. I have seen him on the battlefield just as any other maia has.” I replied.  
“No, more than that. Any other maia would not have noticed the true color of his eyes.” I sat still. A lesser being might have panicked, but within me there was nothing but emptiness and a detached sense of failure. I should have known that he would read my mind. I shut down my mental shields, letting only non threatening thoughts drift through.  
“I have been told that I have a greater attention to detail than most, my Lord.”  
“So Eonwe was incorrect? You have not been fraternizing with the enemy?” Ah, shit. I should’ve known that I couldn’t trust him.  
“He was not supposed to tell anyone about that, but I suppose he was right in doing so. Yes, then. I have been fraternizing with the enemy, as you so eloquently put it, but my intentions were only to aid the might of the Valar and help you destroy him.”  
“You lied to me then. It is not like you to hold secrets, Mairon.” His ignorance was laughable. He knew nothing of me, not as a person or as a smith.  
“Yes. I was not aware that you already knew, and I believe that it is important to keep my dealings with him a secret in case he hears of my true intentions from the mouths of blabbering, lesser maiar.” His expression, like the rest of his form, was fluid. Metal and earth twisted across his face, sand trickled from his eyes, embers burned in his gaze. And yet, it was lifeless. Filled with motion, yet unmoving. I could not fathom how I had ever wanted to be like him, how I had ever seen him as an idol, a role model. He, like the rest of the Valar, had no inspiration,. No imagination. No fuel to burn the fire of creativity, no emotion to vent into beautiful tapestries or eloquent writings. Everything they did was monotone, was dull, was without the soul that Melkor had showed me how to spill into my work to give it a life, a fire that drew and captured the gaze and mind. Power and beauty was in feeling, and that made Melkor the mightiest of all beings.  
“It is not like you to hold secrets.” Aulë repeated, scanning my face with his eyes. I felt the gentle pressure against my mental shields, but I knew he would not break through, unlike Melkor. He was weak. “With any other project of yours, you would have been dying to tell everyone.” His voice was gentle.  
“Not if it would ruin the end result,” I replied. A pause, then, “I am sorry if you are doubting my loyalty, my Lord. If I have made a mistake, or done something wrong, I would gladly correct it.” The strange tension was broken, and Aulë seemed to relax.  
“No, of course you haven’t done anything wrong. I was merely being cautious. You have to understand, these are difficult times for us all. Preparing the earth for the coming of the Children is no easy task, especially with the enemy constantly hindering our efforts. No more secrets, Mairon, please. Keep me updated on how this task you have given yourself is proceeding.”  
“I understand, my Lord. And I will.” He stood up, clapping his hands together with a booming sound that hurt my ears.  
“Well, I’m glad that’s sorted! You may have the rest of the day off.” His tone was unusually kind. He nodded at me, and collapsed into the earth in a storm of rocks and dust, leaving me coughing. I was alone with the statue of Melkor. It’s scarlet eyes stared at me, and I reached out to touch them, biting my lip. It was not at all like me to give in to mortal temptation, but I decided it couldn’t hurt. My fingers broke off one of the gems, and I watched with curiosity as some of the old stone crumbled away around it. The gem was cool, and solid. It was almost as big as my palm, and felt dense in my hand. Light filtered through it, breaking off into fragments and dancing as though across the surface of a pool of blood. I knew this craftsmanship. I knew the elegant hands that had drawn life into this gem, and it certainly wasn’t Aulë. Melkor had made this statue a long time ago, perhaps before I had even been created. But surely he would have known his own eye color? I pocketed the ruby. It’s weight felt comfortable against my leg. As I was pulling my hand away again, one of the many ornate rings adorning my fingers brushed against it. I felt a spark, and darkness exploded behind my eyes. My entire body was wracked with pain, but when I tried to cry out my voice was nothing more than a whimper. I dropped the scrolls from my grasp, clutching my head in my hands, gritting my teeth at the feeling of a hammer slamming against the inside of my skull. It wasn’t going to stop. It was never going to stop. I dug my nails into my hair, my entire body shaking in anguish, in terror at the power that was ripping me apart from the inside, at the creature clawing at me, ripping skin from bone, tearing my ëalar into ribbons as I struggled to breath through my shredded lungs. The world had begun spinning around me, I realised that I had sunk onto my knees but I didn’t remember when. Then, as abruptly as it had started, the pain disappeared. My eyes opened. The only trace left of my torment was a dull throbbing in my temples.  
“Tevildo?” I whirled around to face him. Oh thank Eru. He stepped towards me, and I collapsed into Melkor’s arms.


	9. Yikes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't think of a good chapter title. In case it wasn't obvious

I felt it when Tevildo finally woke. His body tensed beside me, and his breath quickened from the gentle rhythm it had been previously trapped in. I dropped the report I had been reading, scrambling over closer to his side. It had been a terribly written report anyway. I probably needed to give the creatures of darkness that served me some grammar lessons. Tevildo’s eyes flickered open, and all further thoughts were immediately banished from my mind. To my relief the fire within them was still burning as bright as ever, and when he sat up he did it with no visible pain. But then again, you could never know with him. I wrapped my arms around his waist, and pulled him towards me, despite the look of mild annoyance he shot at me in return.  
“I saved your ëalar, dumbass.” He shifted uncomfortably, eyes narrowed.  
“That was your power though. You saved me… from yourself?” He tried to push me away, but forgot to take into account that he was tiny and I was a good foot or two taller than him. My grip didn’t budge. Eventually he gave up, letting himself relax and burying his head against my arm. His hair glowed fainter than before, now more of a fiery blond than red. It was the only proper outward manifestation of his damaged ëalar.  
“Yes, that was a remnant of my power I put into those stones. You should never have touched them.” I closed my eyes in desperation, hoping that he would not question me further. I should’ve known better than to underestimate his curiosity.  
“If they were so dangerous, why were they in Yavanna’s garden in the first place? Anyone could have touched them. And why did Yavanna even let you put them there?” I ignored his second question, fixing my gaze onto him with a gentle growl, “Forgive me, but I did not think that any Maia would be stupid enough to touch a glowing red, obviously powerful, gem they found in a statue of their sworn enemy.” His expression, as always, remained carefully neutral, but I could feel the disbelief echoing through his ëalar.  
“Are you calling me stupid?”  
“Yes, I am,” I snapped. He wrenched himself away from me, and this time I let him. He tumbled onto the bed, rivulets of fire now marking the otherwise unbroken paleness of his hair. I knew he took everything everyone said about him straight to heart, but maybe on this occasion that would finally be a good thing. When I spoke, my voice came out harsher than I initially noticed, “Look, Tevi. I don’t know what part of this you don’t understand, but I’m a monster, ok? I destroy things. It’s what I _do_. My power is, in its nature, destructive. So maybe, somewhere in that genius mind of yours, you should have realised that the existence of a statue of me could never be a good sign. And you _definitely_ should have realised those oh so pretty gems in the eyes were maybe there for, oh, I dunno, a _reason_. And since it’s a statue of me, most definitely not a good reason. So did it ever occur to you to, y’know, _not fucking touch the obviously malicous gems?_” My voice rose involuntarily on the last sentence, and Tevildo flinched. I realised I had leaned forward until I was practically snarling in his face.  
“Why were they there in the first place then? Why did Yavanna have a piece of your power?” His voice was flat compared to mine, questioning. I stared at him, wondering why I had ever wanted someone so completely different to me around. I was going to get him killed. If he stuck around with me for much longer, sooner or later either my own power or someone else’s was going to destroy him. I stood up, darkness dancing in my fingertips.  
“_You fucking idiot._” I hissed, letting the darkness loose. It blanketed the room, until only the light of his ëalar remained. It would be so easy to snuff that out too. To save him from all the suffering I knew he would have to endure if he stayed at my side. And yet… I couldn’t do it. I could never do it. Could never save him from the destruction that wove around me. I had trapped him in my web, and I could not shake him loose. If he had just had the goddamn sense not to touch that gem, not to touch _me-_ I shook my head, anger bubbling through me, spilling out into words that slashed at both of us like knives. “At least the other Maiar, as glassy-eyed and senseless as they are, don’t go throwing themselves onto each others’ swords.” He didn’t reply, but slowly stood up. His movements were steady, calculated. You would have thought he was entirely unaffected, but for the subtle flames that flickered over his hair. His walls had been built back up, and if I had not known that I could destroy them once more with barely any energy, perhaps I would’ve felt a pang of regret.  
“I apologize if I have failed you, Master, or if my subserviency was not adequate. I will do my best to amend this mistake,” he whispered, his voice calm and collected, his posture straight and his eyes dull. He turned and walked out of the room. There was a careful restraint and control in his steps that reminded me of how he had behaved when I had first met him. A loyal servant of the Valar, brain dead, with no capability to think for himself or even to possess emotion. I knew such a life would be safer for him than one as my lieutenant, but the selfish part of me couldn’t bear to see my Maia return to the soft feathers and soulless eyes of my brother. I sneered in disgust. “I did not save you so you could become another of my idiotic servants.” He paused at the doorway, but didn’t look back. His voice wavered, his metaphorical mask momentarily slipping down his face when he spoke, “If this is what you call saving, Master, I believe that I see why the Valar detest you so. And yet, no matter what you do to me, I cannot help but to promise that I will always serve you, and I will always be at your side, even if that makes me another one of your idiotic servants. It is worth it if I can warm the ice within your soul, even just a little.” And with a final flash of gentle flame, he was gone. I did not have the heart to tell him that there was no melting my cold, no matter how strong the fire. That I did not deserve this unceasing loyalty that he had bestowed upon me, seemingly out of nowhere. I growled, my voice rising to a roar, and the very foundations of the fortress shook with my hatred.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof


	10. Of Warmth and Metal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this scene came completely out of nowhere and put this in complete AU territory,,, but I kinda like the idea  
TW for (mild?) body horror, it's not anything bloody or gory though

I had no idea why I’d said that. It was rare of me to blurt something out without thoroughly analyzing every word, but the moment the words had left my mouth I had known that I had spoken the truth. Somehow, in less than a year, I had gone from trying to invent weapons to destroy Melkor to being willing to do anything for him. Less than a few days ago I had been wondering how I could ever change my entire allegiance and become his second in command, but now I was certain that there was nothing in this world that I would rather do. So when had the change occurred? When my ring had touched the gem, creating a pathway for his power to flow through, the various metal ornaments I loved to wear must have allowed it to rush through me as well. I had always been captivated by Melkor’s power, even before I had met him. It was so raw and disorderly, so unlike my own. It’s chaos created so much possibility. Order came from chaos, you could not have one without the other. But that appeared to be what the Valar wanted, to extinguish chaos. Their plan was fundamentally flawed, and so it had to be stopped. I stepped into the forges, inhaling the familiar scent of burning metal and coal dust that had the power to destroy mortal lungs. It was dark outside, and the rest of the Maiar must have been in their rooms or in the gardens. I slipped past the still fires, the steam from their simmering embers billowing around me, flowing into the shapes of gentle clouds and swirling patterns. I had no problem seeing in the darkness, my eyes glittering like dying fires as they pierced gracefully through the smoke. At my request, Aule had separated a section of the forge for my personal use, and now I floated into the room, sighing in delight at the familiarity of my perfectly ordered tools and the neat stacks of paper on my desk. With a brush of my hand, the dead fire, glowing a gentle red, burst into life, the flames rising higher and hotter than even the core of Ormal. The heat burned away the smoke, sending it fleeing into the corners of the room, and the flames sent golden light dancing upon the walls. I stepped towards my desk, my fingertips tracing the polished wood carved with fiery symbols that spun in dizzying markings whose meanings were known only to their maker. After sitting down, I laid my arm flat against the wood, and dug my nails under the near invisible flap in my skin. I opened it, unable to contain my fascination with the seamless way the metal had been welded against my skin, despite me having been the one who had done it in the first place. A series of titanium gears, painted delicately gold because aesthetic mattered, ticked in perfect time where before there was flesh and blood. In place of my bone, I had crafted metal rods, also titanium, and welded it with my actual bones. Soon enough those would be replaced too. The gears tapped out a soft rhythm, clicking and crawling along like a swarm of golden creatures with minds of their own. I ran my fingers over them, cooing lovingly in the hushed tones and lifeless languages of metal and stone. Grabbing the container of oil, I dabbed drops of it in the joints, murmuring in delight when the pace of the mechanism picked up in response. After giving the metal a few more soft strokes with my fingertips, revelling in the vibrations of the metal creatures that ticked so perfectly and neatly along under my skin, I leaned backwards into my chair. The steady pace of the gears, my gateway to finally achieving perfection, and the warmth of the fire let me relax the tension coiled within me, letting it burn away into nothingness. My thoughts drifted to Melkor, as they were often wont to do. Especially recently, I had developed a habit of studying my every interaction with him, picking apart his words and his actions to an almost obsessive degree. I knew I could not do so with our latest… conversation. It would break my fragile mind and so, until I fixed that just like I was fixing my body, it would have to wait. I felt strangely numb, emotionless, almost, just as I had been before Melkor. In pushing away the memory of his scathing words, I had blocked the emotions that came with it, and now I just felt empty. It made me distinctly uncomfortable. I pushed my chair away from my desk, until I was situated nicely in front of my worktable, where my latest project lay. I was trying to recreate the skeletal structure in my hands, but due to the delicate joints and tiny bones, it was proving to be a rather time consuming task. My hands were the tool through which I channelled my craft and my power, and I could not afford to make a single mistake. Perhaps it was ambitious of me, to move onto the most important part of my body directly after my relatively simplistic wrist and forearm, but then again I had never cared much about limitations of ambition, whether self imposed or not. I grabbed the tungsten rod resting on the table. It had been engraved with symbols of fire and smoke, as was the nature of all my tools. After all, I had to make sure that the other Maiar knew what was mine and what they were not permitted to handle. The tip of the rod had been sharpened to a delicate point, and I held it much like a pen. I hummed the song of the tungsten, and felt it shiver at my touch. Heat swirled and flowed from my fingertips, travelling down the rod, heating its tip until it was just below the melting point of the tungsten. I leaned down over the titanium hand structure, and continued where I had left off the welding process of the intricate joins. Some of the joints worked with gears that would be connected to the meager amounts of muscle tissues I planned to leave intact in my hand. To compensate for lack of strength in such a small amount of muscle, I could attach a modified lever or pulley system. The more pulleys I added, or the longer the lever, the stronger I would be. To protect all these mechanisms, I would insert a titanium cover just under my skin, as I had done with my arm. It could be opened by a flap over which I had grown organic skin. To ensure that I could still turn myself into flame, I had manipulated the Song of all the materials I used so that they would not melt or burn other than at my command. By physically welding everything to my organic self, I had made all the systems a part of me, and so I could shift them into other forms just as I could my regular body. It was perfect, and a rather genius idea, if I did say so myself. I wasn’t sure how long I spent there, finding peace within the feel of the metal beneath my hands, in the acrid scent of burning titanium, in the ticking of the gears and the smoke and soot of the fire that lay as a comforting veneer over the entire forge. I was beyond anything but my immediate surroundings, lost in the craft that had shaped me into who I was, that I had shaped to become something more than just lifeless swords or statues, to become something alive, crawling with movement and momentum, with possibility. The elaborate designs, though at first seeming like a convoluted tangle of gears and spokes, were born of order and control. Everything had its place, and when its components were put in those places, the system worked perfectly. There were no flaws, no mess, no waste. There was only the feel of the metal against my skin, the notes of its Song in my mouth, and the steady ticking of the tireless, ornate creature that I would soon become a part of. There was nothing but order, and a strange fulfillment of the longing for perfection that had haunted my steps for as long as I could remember.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yea. That's what Mai did to himself with that hammer :')


	11. Of Fire and Ice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Melkor's thoughts on his situation

Shadows raced forward alongside me as I slipped across the land. I was invisible to mortal eyes in this form, and the only sign of my presence was the nervous chittering animals emitted when I passed them. Eventually the golden building that contained Aule’s forges came into view. The light of Ormal illuminated it’s ornate balconies and sprung off of it’s framed windows, piercing into the shade that was my body, burning through my darkness and delving into the fair forest behind me. The symbols of the Valar were carved into the walls of the mansion. They were painted amber, sprawling and dripping across the gold like rivulets of flame. Kind of like Tevildo’s hair. I dissolved into a finer mist, letting the air currents swirling around me carry me up onto one of the balconies. There, the shadows around me fell away into dust, and I stepped, light as a feather, onto the glittering golden marble of the balcony railing. After determining that no one had noticed my arrival, I leaped nimbly down, leaving a trail of shadowy particles behind me. The doors were made of frosted glass, and draped over with black cloth from the inside. I pushed against them, but they were locked. Frustration bubbled through me, and I growled as if to terrify the doors into submission. For some reason, it didn’t work. I could probably have shattered them with a single command, but I had a key and I might as well use that for once. I summoned the key from my pocket - a fancy way of saying that I rummaged around in my clothing for way too long before my fingers finally brushed against it - and inserted it into the lock. Nothing happened. I frowned, narrowing my eyes. After giving the key a rather rough jiggle in the lock, I realised that I could turn it. Was it supposed to do that? I turned it anyway, and to my relief I heard a gentle click, and the door swung inwards. I was immediately met with the acrid smell of burnt metal and smoky fire, interspersed with the sharp tang of ash that scratched at my throat. I stepped inside, shutting the door behind me. Suddenly the light of the outside world was cut off, and the darkness that echoed in my bones leaked into the room. This was a different world entirely from the plants and wind of the wild. This was a world ruled by glowing embers and sparks, by the lifeless Songs of metal and stone that tumbled out of the mouths of Aule and his Maiar as they shaped the tactile world to their will. This was the world that Tevildo crept through when he worked, the spiralling reality that his fiery gaze ignited into entrancing works of smoke and metal. I had no problem seeing through the shadows. I was a creature of darkness and change, of shifting gears and chasms rent in the crust of the earth, and even Tevildo’s heat could not warm the loneliness that I was doomed to suffer by the will of Eru. I melted through the forge, and into Tevildo’s private workspace. The fire was sending up lazy sparks, its smoke rising in warm breaths, filling the room. Amongst the hazy air, Tevildo was slumped over his desk. I padded over towards him, my bitterly chilled eyes the only source of cold in the soft fire of the forge. Tevildo’s hair was sprawled across the worktable, tiny streams of embers tumbling across the unusually pale strands, fending off the darkness that threatened to swallow his fragile fëa. His back rose and fell gently with his breathing, his breaths momentarily displacing some of the smoke, sending it twirling away from his face to reveal long, curled eyelashes resting on high cheekbones dusted with golden freckles. I reached out a claw, mesmerized, tracing his jawline with my fingertips. I wondered if he dreamed as I did, but then again I had always been rather different to the rest of the Ainur. A monster, surrounded by angels. Tevildo had been the first to suggest that that might not be such a bad thing. I took a step back. It appeared as though he had fallen asleep while working, and that surely could not be a comfortable position. I wrapped my arms around his waist, bracing myself, then pulling him up. I almost stumbled backwards; Eru, he was ridiculously light. And tiny. Who in their right mind would choose to have a fana this tiny when they could be as tall as a mountain if they wished? At least it meant I could carry him without much difficulty. Though still asleep, he shifted in annoyance at the displacement. I cast my gaze around the room, looking for somewhere I could drop him where he could sleep in comfort. To my distinct annoyance, there was no couch. And I obviously couldn’t just carry him in broad daylight to his room without some Maia, or even Aule himself, attempting to violently disembowel me. I sighed, then my gaze alighted on his second, relatively empty compared to this one, desk. After shifting some of the various tools immaculately placed on it to the side, I laid my Maia on the wood. He rolled onto his side, eyelids fluttering in the darkness, before settling down with his head buried in the crook of his elbow. He was not usually a heavy sleeper, but if the dark circles under his eyes were anything to go by, he must have been working since our argument. And even immortal fanar needed rest eventually. Had I said something wrong, to make him overwork himself like this? I sat on the edge of the table. How could I be the one to blame when all I wanted was to save him? If he stayed in my presence, my destructive, dark, power would eventually overcome his flame, and there wasn’t anything I could do about it. And, even if I let him stick around for much longer, I would eventually become too much for him to handle, and he would leave, just like my asshole of a brother and Eru. I was destined to be alone, and I had long since accepted that. I wouldn’t care if he left, if he saved himself now. But later? After we had spent centuries together? That would hit a lot harder, plus it was possible that he would be damaged beyond repair by that point. Better to rip the bandage off now, before it could bury itself under our skin and we were forced to tear ourselves apart to get to it. I found myself staring into the embers of the dying fire. It had almost gone out, a delicate, barely visible glow the only sign that it had once been a roaring flame. Would Tevildo's fëa look like that, once I was done with him? All hollow and dying? I turned away closing my eyelids, bitterly cold tears, freezing seas, dripping from my eyes. They fell down my face, leaving a trail of frost in their path until my skin shimmered with ice, and I had not the energy to heat my skin in order to melt it. I was cold. Despite the warmth of the forge, despite the dying fire, I was cold. I pulled my knees up to my chest, resting my chin on them, letting the ice drip from my closed eyes and stain all it touched with its uncontrollable bite. I wished I could tell someone about the loneliness that tormented my steps, but the other Ainur did not feel such things. They followed the will of Eru, slaves to his words, mindless, automatic. Perhaps my brother, if he had tried, could have understood. He had been so, so close to becoming his own being, to realizing that we were not limited by the boundaries of others, but a single reprimand from Eru had destroyed all that he could have been. He could have understood me. We could have worked as one, unbound to any but ourselves. We could have been close, united. We should have been. But then the bastard and his precious Valar had turned on me and my design, and now I was alone in the void. It was so unbearably cold here. I refused to let this frost destroy Tevildo’s fire, to drag him down with me. This was my path, and my path alone, and I would push any who dared tread alongside me off of it, even if it meant that they would fall into the darkness beneath us. I felt something warm against me. I opened my eyes, and was plunged back into the black fire of the room. Tevildo had curled up against me, more awake than before and yet still half asleep. He kissed the tears from my face, purring in soft, mellow tones that made me wonder if he somehow knew of my distress. To my dismay I realized that he was cold to the touch; my body temperature must have dropped lower than I thought. I hurriedly brought it back up to a more appropriate level of heat. Tevildo’s head dropped onto my shoulder. I wondered if he would be angry when he properly woke up. There was no reason for him to be: I hadn’t done anything wrong, after all. It was him who had allowed himself to be lured in by me. If he had actually thought about it for a moment, perhaps he would have had the sense to stay away. But it was too late now, and, as much as I knew it was destined to happen, I realized that I didn’t want him to leave me in the empty void again, even if I knew that staying with me would destroy his mind eventually. I tilted my head, eyes flickering.  
“What would it take, to make you leave?” I whispered into the shadows. The last embers of the fire finally died out, leaving us in darkness unbroken but for Tevildo’s scintillating flame and my frozen eyes. He opened his sleep filled eyes to look up at me, his pupils dilated, his irises terrible, all seeing rings of fire that melted my icy stare.  
“Nothing,” he hummed softly, and buried his face in my arms, his hair flowing with molten gold, alight once more with the fervorous leaps of fire that even Eru had not been able to tame.


	12. Of Acceptance and Reconciliation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that we're in quarantine I finally have the time to write a lot more,,, yay!  
Also now it's Mairon's turn to think about deep stuff

I woke up pressed up against a block of ice. The metal of my newly reinforced limbs ached, not only because my body had yet to get used to them, but also with the cold. I wondered why I had even let myself fall asleep in the first place. My eyes opened, and I realized that I was not at my worktable, but lying on my desk. And the aforementioned block of ice next to me was, in fact, a person. I turned to look Melkor dead in the eyes.  
“What are you doing here,” I growled, albeit relatively demurely. He ducked his head with guilt in his expression, his hair falling in a curtain of night over his face. Ice glistened in the corners of his eyes and in glowing drops across his face. I wondered where it had come from.  
“So… are you still going to join me?” He asked eventually. I stared at him. His presence had a habit of eroding my mental barriers, and now the tumultuous mess of emotions I had hidden behind iron walls finally burst into the forefront of my mind. I had been going to say no. Before I felt his power, _properly_ felt it, all of it, I had decided to stay with Aulë and work with him from here, not from directly at Melkor’s side. The gem was still in my pocket, a part of his fea that he had left so carelessly lying around. I brushed against it with my newly metallic fingers, careful not to let it touch any of my rings, feeling the familiar throb of power pulse through me at the contact. There was just one thing holding me back from throwing myself into his arms; he had been right.  
“Why would you still want me as your Lieutenant?” He furrowed his brows, tilting his head at me.  
“What? Why wouldn’t I?” Worry, interspersed with suspicion, flashed across his face. I bit my lip.  
“Because of how senseless I am? Why have me when you could find someone who can actually think for themselves, who won’t become just another mindless thrall?”  
“And go to all that trouble of seducing a new Maia? No thanks. That’s far too much work for me. I’d rather stick with the one I already have.” He said, and his voice was strangely nervous. I knew he was lying about something, but I couldn’t quite place about what. And he hadn’t actually said that he didn’t think that I was stupid. “And, well…” he attempted to continue, then exhaled, wiping some of the ice away from under his eyes. It fell in glittering shards onto his black armor, stars in a sea of darkness, before melting into the night. I waited for him to carry on, but he had fallen silent. Just when I had started wondering whether he was somehow angry at me, he grabbed my head in his claws, and rested his forehead against mine. I squeaked in surprise, but didn’t realize that I should probably be scrabbling to get away. His eyes stared into mine, large, terrifying rings of ice. They chilled my core, freezing my flame until I fluttered in despair, but still I held his gaze, incapable of pulling away. His pupils were reptilian, and now they slowly dilated, signifying emotions that I did not know how to read. His gaze, though at first seemingly filled with freezing frost, was hollow, empty, a reflection of the bitter cold of the void staring back at me. I didn’t know what was in that void. I didn’t know what would happen if I stepped into it, if I followed the icy trail that his stare led me down. And, by Eru, I _hated_ not knowing things. He held my gaze for a while longer, until I was shivering from the cold and no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t heat myself back up again. Finally, he let go, allowing me to fall backwards, allowing the warmth to flow back into me. “Why don’t you run,” He whispered, and the shadows caved to his command, destroying every whisper of light in the forge. “_What do you want from me?_” His voice rose to a roar, his eyes searching my face, desperate for a sign of what I was thinking. To be honest, I wasn’t sure myself. All I knew was that feelings that had been strong before, before I had felt his power, had now consumed me, and I was drowning, drowning in a sea of fire that writhed and screamed words at me that I did not understand.  
“I don’t know,” I whimpered, my voice a weak wail that only seemed to enrage him further.  
“Why- how? How can you not know something like that?” He raked his fingers through his hair, despair wrecking wounds in his face. I dropped my gaze, wishing I could answer him. What was it about feeling his power that had affected me so? I hadn’t learned anything about him that I hadn’t known before, nothing had changed. But I knew, I was _sure_, that that must have been when I decided I would die for him, because the night before I had had no such notions. I had still wished to work for him, to spend my time with him, but my sense of self preservation had still been fully intact. So what… I looked down at my hands. Over the course of the last few days, I had been working tirelessly, unceasingly on myself, on the metal structures that were now a part of me. I flexed my fingers, feeling the delicate mechanism whine and purr with the motion. I was my own creation now. I turned to look back up at Melkor, and he no longer seemed angry, merely distressed. He had noticed that I had been studying my hands, and he looked at them now, with no knowledge of the gears and gold that lay, a hidden treasure, under my skin. My eyes widened.  
“Because you cared,” I began, and this time I let the emotion seep through the cracks in me and into my voice. “Because you asked to see my ideas, my creations. Not just the ones you commissioned from me, but the personal ones too. You never did get to see them, and I don’t even know if you would’ve liked them had I gotten the chance to show them to you. But you cared, and you asked.” It had had nothing to do with his power, and everything to do with the validation I craved that would finally let me know that I was, at least in someone's eyes, on the road to perfection. I bit my lip again anxiously, hoping that my words had made sense. I wasn’t quite sure how I expected Melkor to react. Would he think it strange? Would he be angry again? What I certainly did not expect, was for him to burst out in laughter. I blinked, confused, but that only seemed to further his amusement. He wrapped his arms around my chest, burying his head in my hair.  
“Are you serious?? Are you honestly so starved for the approval of your ideas that the moment someone takes interest in them you suddenly want to serve that person for the rest of your life??” I frowned, unsure if he was making fun of me or not.  
“Is that a bad thing?”  
“Not necessarily... I guess you shouldn’t really care what other people think so much. It’s not good for you.” But he was wrong there. I was a Maia; a servant by nature. The defining factor of my very existence was to serve a Master. I needed attention, I _thrived_ off of it. I could barely function without someone's approval, as frustrating as that could be sometimes. Melkor nuzzled my shoulder, eyes glowing with curiosity at my sudden silence. There was a gentle nudge at the edge of my consciousness. Barely capable of doing otherwise, I let him into my mind, showing him my thoughts. He paused for a second, face twisted in concentration, then his expression melted into one of confusion, as though he didn’t quite understand my mindset and outlook, then interest, then pity.  
“You’ve invaded my mind before,” I pointed out. He shrugged.  
“Yea, but I was looking for something specific that time. Didn’t concentrate on all the other stuff.” He hesitated, then continued with a new brightness in his gaze, resting his chin on my head as he spoke. “And fine- I was wrong. For once. I don’t think you’re stupid, and I want you as my Lieutenant because you seem to be the only one around here who knows what they’re doing. And, well… I kinda like having you around.” I yelped quietly at his words, burying my face against his chest in shock.  
“You like having me around??” I murmured, feeling red hot, burning flames lick across my hair.  
“If I didn’t like having you around, I’m pretty sure that you’d be dead by now.” He chuckled, considering the issue, then nodded as if in confirmation. “Yup, I’d have you violently murdered and hung from my door.” Then, noticing my slightly panicked demeanor, he hurriedly added, “But! I love you very much so that won’t happen. Unless you betray me. Which you won’t. Because I read your mind so I know that. I think. I mean, unless you’ve shielded your thoughts. Which you wouldn’t do. Would you? Fuck, what if-” I kissed him, tilting my head up so our foreheads were touching, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling myself into his lap.  
“I’d love to be your Lieutenant,” He pulled away. As though in reply, he pressed his fangs against my neck, his hands gripping my waist, an incongruous regret dancing in his eyes.  
“Good,” he murmured, his hands tracing along my spine, letting the cold spiral up to my face. He pressed our lips together, and I reveled in the frost that came with his touch.  
“What would you have done, if I'd said no?” I whispered when he finally pulled away. His hands found their way to my throat, as though he was wondering how easily he could rip this mortal form away from my fëa and expose the dreadful, unbridled inferno underneath.  
“I don’t know,” he said, but something in his voice made me think he did. I ignored it, quelling my unquenchable curiosity, not wishing to drive him away with thoughts of my torn fëa in his hands. He seemed grateful for that, because he leaned in for another kiss, biting gently at the golden ring in my lip. I whimpered in surprise, bracing my hands against his hips in a meager attempt to push him away. He laughed, and grabbed my wrists tight enough to shatter mortal bones, pinning me down against the desk. His eyes were glowing brighter now, their ice freezing and shattering any shred of resistance against Melkor I might have possessed. I didn’t mind, though. Not when he bit my neck with a mouthful of fangs, drops of dark shadows gathering around the wounds, and I hissed in annoyance because I knew it would leave a mark, and certainly not when his nails dragged ragged lines along my arms, crimson blood pooling around his claws. I just hoped that he wouldn’t discover the metal lurking underneath my fragile form, so discordant with the blazing strength of my fire. He dragged his kisses along my jawline, then behind my neck, nuzzling at the flames that dripped in molten ashes across my skin at the contact. I sighed in delight when he let frost dance from his touch, an agonizing yet welcome contrast against the heat that pulsed through my fëa. He burned me, as no fire ever could, and I let him. There was a twisted relief in letting someone else have control, to let go of my insatiable avarice for order and let someone else pull my strings. It was almost therapeutic; to let go, without losing control, without my mind shattering into pieces because he was there to hold it together. And so I relaxed into his touch, and let him do what he wished to me, while a tumult of strange and aberrant emotions danced at his fingertips.


	13. Of Sharp Teeth and Meetings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Melkor realizes his true form may not be as hideous as he originally thought

Oh Eru. What had I done? No. This wasn’t right. This was all wrong, dark and twisted. And yet… Tevildo was fire, wild, untamed, but almost bizarrely controlled through it all. Even when I drew blood, he just lay there, unmoved, seemingly unaffected by it all. It was glorious. He did not cower in fear and disgust from my form like the others, he did not flinch at my bitter cold. Then again, he didn’t smile or laugh either, but I suspected that that was’t because he wasn’t happy, but more of a side effect of the mask he had worn for his entire existence in front of the Valar. When I poked at his mind, I found only a morbid delight there, which only reaffirmed my thoughts. He let me tear away at him, and did not run from the pain I could not stop myself from inflicting. I had no self-control, and lashed out without thinking, but Tevildo stood his ground. I could not help but wonder - how far would this loyalty go? And what had I done to deserve it? I knew his obedience would not last forever, he would flee soon enough from my darkness, which made it an even more idiotic and impulsive of me to ask him once more if he would join me. Ok, maybe he said yes now. But what of later, when the edges of his mind had been frayed by my terrible gaze? His fealty would fail, but by that point I would be incapable of letting him go, and I would destroy him in my avarice and rage. I was certain of it. No one, not Eru, not my brother, stayed with me through my anger, and Tevildo would be no different. I was jerked free from my thoughts by warm lips on mine. He leaned over me, which I wasn’t sure how I felt about, so I pushed him down instead until our positions were reversed. I knew exactly what I would have done had he refused my offer. I would have turned on him in a blinding flash of disappointment, and when the dull haze had cleared from my mind I would have been left with a broken Maia in my hands, and a vicious feeling of guilt in my mind. Part of me was thrilled with this newfound loyalty he displayed, yet the rest of me wished that all he felt for me was a mild attraction and a grudging sense of respect. I sighed, troubled, wondering if I should voice my fears out loud. Tevildo tilted his head to one side in a manner similar to his wolves, and I knew he was curious about my thoughts, though he dared not voice his interest out loud. I sighed again, running a clawed hand down my face in frustration. Feelings were such a strange subject, and for once I was jealous of the Valar for their freedom from them. “I don’t want to hurt you,” I attempted to explain, “But I fear I cannot be without you.” His eyes glittered with confusion in reply.  
“Why would you hurt me?” He asked.  
“Because I‘m angry, and I lose control. Because I want to see how far I can push you before you leave.” He stiffened, almost out of instinct, at the mention of losing control, and looked down at his elegant hands.  
“I don’t mind if you hurt me,” he said in a small voice. I frowned.  
“But-”  
“No, really. If that’s what you want,” he shrugged, “Who am I to deny you? And I will not leave you, no matter what you inflict upon me. It is in my nature to remain obedient to my Vala. I do not believe I could leave you if I tried.”  
“But I’m not your Vala.” I stopped, narrowing my eyes at him. “Are you saying you’d like me to be? Wouldn’t that be slightly strange?” He shrugged.  
“I assumed that is what you meant when you wished me to join you. You are correct, it would be rather… unorthodox. But no one said that a Vala and a Maia cannot have a relationship other than mentor and apprentice.” I leaned back against the wall, considering him. What he was saying made sense to me, as his words always did. Sometimes I envied his ability to manipulate all those around him with a single sentence, but more often than not I was grateful for it; he truly did make an excellent spy.  
“Alright then,” I said slowly, “But, you do realise that spending too much time with me will destroy you, right?” He looked up at me.  
“Why would it destroy me?”  
“I am chaos incarnate, I am all that is wrong with this world.” As I spoke I steadily shifted, my fana melting into the monstrous shape that I was most comfortable with. Bottomless eyes, my pupils mere slits of the void, fangs that ripped through my skin at awkward angles, horns that curled across my body in the mesmerizing shapes of beasts long forgotten. The scars I had endured in my first fights with the Valar became clearer, open, ragged gashes in my skin that were stitched together with the venom of She who haunts the webs of fate. Swirling wings spilled from my back, filled with shadows, slowly spreading alongside the irresistible lure of entropy until the room was smothered in chaos. My hands were talons, proper talons now, and their bones twisted in odd shapes. “I am the inevitable change. I am destruction.” My fana finally settled into its abhorrent form, and I gazed at Tevildo expectantly. If he truly was telling the truth about his loyalty, he would not flee from my foul stare. I did not have high expectations. Just as I had anticipated, he dropped his head. What surprised me was that it did not seem to be out of fear or revulsion, but because of a faint blush coating his cheeks that even he was unable to repress. My jaw dropped in surprise, my long, reptilian tongue curling behind my teeth. He turned an even brighter shade of red, ducking under a veil of glowing, fiery hair in discomfiture. I raised an eyebrow.  
“Really? Of all the things you could have been into-”  
“No! I- I’m not- How could you even suggest such a thing??” He protested, but the flames glinting in his gaze suggested otherwise. I cupped his face in my talons, and he turned his head to nuzzle my palm, eyelids flickering shut.  
“Are you sure?”  
“Yes,” he whined with a traitorous wistfulness in his voice against the scales curling in deformed patterns across my skin. This was possibly the first time I had seen him genuinely attempt to lie, and fail. I twisted him even closer to me, our breaths mingling, fire against ice, creating clouds of steam that rose from his skin where I touched him.  
“If I am to be your Vala, I don’t believe it would be a good idea to lie to me,” I growled, because the gentlest sound I was capable of in this fana was a growl. I was only half serious, though. He ducked his head in compliance, and I tugged him upwards to kiss him properly, my sprawling mass of teeth, spines, and claws fitting awkwardly against his tiny form. He tilted his head back to accomodate for my long incisor teeth, fangs that could tear through almost any material. I exhaled in gratification, watching the rush of steam that was released at the action bemusedly. Tevildo tilted his head away to follow my gaze. I rested my chin on his shoulder, attempting with some success to prevent my horns from tapping against him. When his attention didn’t immediately return to me, I tugged at his tunic instead, letting it turn to frost and burn away in my hands. He jumped in surprise, turning back to me. “How did you lose interest that quickly,” I complained, burying my head in his neck in a meager attempt to regain his attentiveness, my talons accidentally scratching his skin, though not quite hard enough to draw blood. He shook his head, ears twitching, and gently knocked me away with a hand splayed across my chest.  
“Someone’s coming. Eönwë,” he hissed, and now I concentrated enough to hear footsteps too. How I hated that bitch. Especially his timing. Could he have not come like an hour later or something? Just as the other Maia’s light footsteps were almost in the forge, I relaxed into the shadows, letting their dark smooth away the edges of my form and cover my frigidly glacial eyes. I was sure if it had been in Tevildo’s power to do so in the time limit presented to him, he would have loved to disappear too, but the powers of a Maia in terms of warping matter limited at best, and even in the case of one such as Eönwë who was closer to the Valar in might, I doubted that he would have been able to conceal himself with such ease so quickly. So when Eönwë walked into the room, Tevildo was still there, attempting to smooth his hair and adopt a slightly less mortified expression. Under the circumstances, he seemed to have managed this pretty well. I was not blind this time, as I was just crouching in the darkness and had not actually forced light to bend around me, so I could see Eönwë’s very punchable and self assured looking face. He surveyed the room, wrinkling his nose at the writing supplies that had been negligently brushed off of the desk by me and were now laying at the floor. He cleared his throat, as though about to make a speech, and I had to exercise a truly ridiculous amount of self-restraint not to scoff.   
“My Lord Manwë wishes to observe all the higher ranked Maiar in a meeting, along with the rest of the Valar, tomorrow before the light of Ormal has fully waxed. He wishes to discuss preparations for a siege on the Dark Lord’s forces, and advises that you not be late…” He trailed off at Tevildo’s rather unimpressed look. There was silence, in which Eönwë took in the pile of frosted ash on the desk that had previously been Tevildo’s shirt, as well as the eerily cool temperature of the usually blistering forge. At this point I was relatively confident in Tevildo’s skill at weaving lies, so I opted to remain in the shadows and wait for something interesting to happen. Eönwë finally spoke; “Where… did your shirt go?”  
“I accidently burned it while handling the fire,” came the immediate response.  
“I have never before seen you do anything wrong in the forge. I don’t believe that.” Oh Eru save us all, the Maia appeared to be developing intellectual capacity. If only my brother could do the same, we might all be slightly better off.  
“I was distracted.”  
“By what? Again, I have never once seen you get distracted from a project you were not dedicated to.”  
“Then perhaps I was not dedicated enough to this particular project.” Eönwë considered this inclining his head downwards as if in thought.  
“What were you distracted by?” He repeated.  
“An agent of the Dark Lord’s attacked me as I was working. They must have thought I would be vulnerable while my attention was on something else. That is all that remains of them,” At this he pointed at the pile of ash, “But they do seem to have frozen up the room a little.” I grinned in the darkness. Perhaps making him my chief spymaster might have been a better choice than Lieutenant. When my gaze shifted back on to Eönwë, however, his eyes were still narrowed.  
“When I caught you last time, you said that the Dark Lord thought that you were secretly on his side. If that were the case, there is no reason for one of his agents to attack you. Your lies may be good enough on their own, but next time I would suggest trying to make them coherent together as well. If I catch you again I will report this to Manwë. Please don’t let me down. Good day, Mairon.” His voice had taken on the quality of one who had rehearsed their words. He turned on his heel, cape of feathers flashing behind him, and strided out of the room. The only clear thought left in my head was; did that Maia honestly prepare and memorise lines for this exact scenario? My brother truly did raise his subordinates in strange ways. Tevildo seemed to be partially in shock. I re-materialized from the shadows, this time slipping back into my regular, more aesthetically pleasing form. Well, more aesthetically pleasing to most. Not to Tevildo, however, which was an occurrence I was still trying (and failing) to wrap my head around. I sauntered leisurely over to him. “So... where were-” He shot me a glare, and his eyes burned with an intensity that matched the ice in mine. Technically, I could easily overpower him if I wanted to, but on this occasion I decided that shutting up may be the wiser choice for my general wellbeing.  
“Apologies for that, although I believe that this situation is still salvageable, at least if I attempt to fix my lies. I will go to this… meeting, tomorrow, and find out when and how they are planning to attack you. Eönwë may be a fool for trusting me, but it is in his nature to see the best in everyone. As long as you stay well away from me, I believe that he will keep his mouth shut. We can communicate with letters if you so desire.” He adjusted his hair, despite the fact that it was still somehow in perfect condition, and bent down to pick up the fallen writing supplies. The parchment rustled when his hands brushed against it, and he set it down in its place on the desk. After making sure that not a single pencil was out of place, he gathered the ashy remains of his shirt in his hands, and strode over to the fireplace. The substance stained his skin as dark as the shadows I had hidden in. When he dropped it onto the dead fire, it sent a plume of dark particles billowing out that itched my throat, and I coughed lightly. Before the ashes had even begun to settle down, Tevildo was already sweeping across the room towards the door, brushing the dust from his hands in clouds of darkness.   
“If this attack by the Valar does take place, what will you do? Will you pretend to fight against me?” I called after him, easing myself carefully back up to sit on the desk, making sure that I didn’t touch any of the newly ordered supplies in a rare display of thoughtfulness. He turned back, leaning on the doorframe with one arm, hair purposefully tousled in faultless waves that burned the smoke gathering in swirls around him. His grin was wolflike, eyes unending tunnels of flame. Yet, I knew that despite his predatory demeanor he would readily yield beneath my wings of unceasing dark, would do anything I commanded of him without a second thought. I had to admit that I did however find it rather endearing when he attempted to pretend otherwise.  
“Oh yes, absolutely. I plan to rip you and your army to shreds. Or pretend to, at least,” He said with a smirk, curiously watching my eyes flicker up and down his fana. Then, with a final glint of elegantly pointed canine teeth, he was gone, leaving me alone in the dark.


	14. Of Mistakes and Medicine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seems like Mairon forgot something important :eyes emoji:

I stalked down the corridor, shooting cold, threatening looks at any minor Maiar that dared make eye contact with me. Most of them knew to stay out of my way by now whenever they had the honor of glimpsing me in public, but some of them did occasionally need some reminding. I stepped into my chambers, wishing that I had had the sense to ask someone to rebuild the door Melkor had destroyed. Instead, I opted to cover the door frame with a black piece of fabric that had been previously used as a tablecloth. After fastening it onto the wooden frame with steel pins that were better suited for my hair than being hammered into a wall, I slumped down onto the bed, letting myself fall backwards. Damn. I had not been expecting to reconcile with Melkor so soon, nor in that way. And yet, every word I had spoken had - for once - been true. That was a new experience. The white cloth of the bed was cool against my skin, a welcome change from the stuffy heat of the forge that I had been sleeping in for the past week. I turned my head sideways, eyes alighting on the wardrobe beside my table, in which hung neat robes. I should probably wear something. I attempted to lift my head up, but a sudden wave of exhaustion hit me, so I decided to be content with just laying there. I wasn’t sleepy, having just slept for Eru knows how long, and this felt more like the sort of exhaustion that came from overworking oneself. Which was ridiculous, because working for a week straight was barely anything for me. I rolled onto my side, blowing strands of hair out of my face. A brief thought that perhaps I should cut it, for practicalities sake, crossed my mind, and was immediately expelled; such horrid thoughts were better fit for night terrors. I wondered when the last time I had taken a break for longer than a day or two was, and my mind landed on a memory of Aulë taking me outside to show me Yavanna’s newly regrown gardens, after the Dark Vala had destroyed them. It had been a long time ago, when I was younger and still unsure of the working of this world. I had attempted to string together a chain of roses, but the thorns had stabbed ruthlessly at my fingers. Aulë had taken my hands in his and healed them, telling me not to worry, that pain was only ever temporary. Once I had quietened down, I had decided to remake the chain with daisies instead, giving it as a gift to Aulë afterwards. He had laughed, pulling me into a hug, and had applauded my excellent craftsmanship. Now I only remembered how silly he had looked in a daisy crown. The chain had been flawed, anyway, the stems of the plants unequal with each other, and some of the petals had fallen off. And despite his congratulatory words, Aulë must have felt nothing. Neither he nor Yavanna loved me. That was what Melkor had said, that the Valar felt no emotion as he did, and looking at them side by side I knew it to be true. At the mention of Melkor, I wondered what he would say at the fact that the last time I had taken a proper, long, break had been when I was still a child and Aulë had forced me outside. Presumably something involving dragging me to the lava baths under Utumno, with a lot of added cursing. On second thought, he probably wouldn’t have to drag me - I would follow him anywhere if he told me to. Finally, I summoned up enough energy to actually get up. My entire body ached with the modifications I had applied to myself, and the room seemed to be spinning around me. There was a metallic taste in my mouth. Replacing my internal organs had been the hardest part; there would be a period in between removing the organ and inserting the new, improved, metal one in which my body would attempt to shut down. That would be fine if it was someone else doing the surgery, but since it was just me it meant I could die, and it would take a lot of energy and time to rebuild myself a fana. So I had had to work quickly, and with all the dexterity and attention that I could manage. I had blacked out once or twice, but it had always been after I had fixed the new structure into my body, and I had woken up soon enough after. But it had all been worth it, and now there was only my eyes left to replace. I was almost done, and it was just as perfect as I had imagined. I hugged myself, unable to stop a grin spreading across my face. Aulë would be amazed. The last time I had approached him with the idea of an automaton, he had shaken his head, saying that it was impossible and against the will of Eru. Now I had made myself into one, and I was that much closer to being able to tell myself that I was truly, finally perfect. And when I openly revealed my new allegiance to Melkor, they would be devastated! They could have had such power on their side; everyone would be chasing after me, begging me to rejoin them, but I would send them away with a carefully controlled wave of my hand and a perfect smile. Alright, maybe I had messed up while attempting to lie to Eönwë, but that had been a beginner’s mistake. I would improve, and I would become perfect at that as well. For the first time, I had a chance of achieving my life goal, and it was all thanks to Melkor, who had initially encouraged me to test out my designs for mechanical automatons. Once my head had stopped spinning, I swallowed down the blood that had gathered in my mouth, and stepped over to my wardrobe. Strange. I hadn’t felt dizzy like this when I had gotten up in the forge. Perhaps I had simply done it slower there. I opened the wooden door, tiny splinters in the handle digging into my skin, and observed with a growing dread that my hand was shaking. My body probably just needed to get used to the new systems. I grabbed the first thing I saw; it was a white tunic, made of silk so fine that it was almost see through, a garment intended more for sleeping in that walking around in. I slipped it over my head, the silk delightfully gentle to the touch, and stripped out of the leggings I wore while working in the forge. At this point I was shivering so hard that it was difficult to stand. My instincts were screaming at me to lay down and curl up into a defensive ball, but I just gritted my teeth, closing the door to the wardrobe and making my way back to the bed. I collapsed onto it, willing myself to stop shaking. The room was spinning again, faster this time, and I wanted to be sick. Had I done something wrong with the mechanisms? Had I tightened something incorrectly? _Was I not perfect?_ The last question shredded through my mind. Even if I had done something wrong, it was too late to fix it now. My joints were agony, it felt just like it had when I had accidentally conducted Melkor’s power, but this time instead of the threat flowing into me from the outside, it was all inside me. My head snapped up. The threat was coming from inside me. I had not thought to take into consideration how my natural immune system would react to the excessive transplants, and now it was attacking me from the inside. There were substances that could be used to suppress the immune system, and they were a part of the medicinal kit every Maia was required to possess, just in case. However, I had only ever seen them used on animals, and I kept all the drugs I possessed in my bathroom. There was no way I had the strength to get to them. The room was beginning to darken, despite it being still light outside. There was the taste of bile and blood in my mouth, my skin felt itchy, and the pain wasn’t going to stop. I could not afford to die now, not when I needed to get that information concerning the attack on Melkor, not when I had just worked so hard on making this body perfect. While being attacked by Melkor’s power, I had not had the energy to think of such things. Somehow, still being in control of my own mind made it worse. Summoning up the last dregs of energy I could muster, I rolled off of the bed. The floor slammed against me, and it hurt, but the pain was enough to force me into regaining my focus. I reached out a hand, clawing at the floorboards, forcing myself to crawl forwards. One step at a time. Just as though I was approaching a new project in the forge. One step at a time. My knees were bloody and scraped from being dragged across rough wood, but I managed to pull myself into the bathroom. I was certain that if it had not been for the reinforced systems in my body and their mechanical strength, I would not have been able to get this far. My past self, being an idiot, had decided to place the medicines on the top shelf above the bowl which served as a sink. My brain had stopped working at this point, and my primordial instincts had taken over. Survive or die, they told me. I braced myself against the floor, and pushed myself upwards. My muscles didn’t burn or scream in pain as they might have once, because now they were of titanium and tungsten. I gripped the edge of the sink, the gears in my hands locking in place, and dragged myself up. The medicine I was looking for lay in a blue pouch. Blue as the color of Melkor’s eyes. I grabbed the pouch, and blindly poured its entire contents into my mouth, not even registering their taste. Then I collapsed onto the floor, and waited to either die or for something to work. At this point I wasn’t sure I cared which one happened. After drifting in and out of a dreamless sleep for an hour, I vomited out of the nearest window. It was disgusting, but as I was able to actually stand up and open the window in the first place, I counted it as a success. I steadied myself against the window pane, the sharp metal cutting into my palms, taking in deep breaths until I felt relatively fine. Then I staggered out of the room and back onto the bed. I didn’t even bother with the blanket, or getting into a position other than lying face down, half smothered by the pillow. I was probably lucky I didn’t suffocate in my sleep. But at that point my entire body felt weighed down by lead, and I was too exhausted to do anything but close my eyes and let Irmo’s dreams overtake me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm pretty sure this isn't actually how immunosuppressants work?? But whatever I have artistic license leave me alone


	15. Of Speed and Lies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Valar are so hard to write,,, but yea have some embarrassed Mairon

I woke up to the golden light of Ormal filtering through the half closed window blinds. I had a mild headache, and my joints ached, but other than that I felt good. Happy, even. It was a stupid mistake of me, to forget to take into account how my immune system would react, but in my defense things to do with living things had never been my area of expertise. That was Aiwendil’s, or in some twisted way Melkor’s, specialty. Despite that, I was still alive; these new mechanisms had essentially saved my life, Melkor wasn’t angry with me and I was going to be his Lieutenant. Even if Eönwë’s warning meant we couldn’t meet up in person until the Valar attacked him. My face paled. The meeting. Ah, shit. Fuck. Ormal’s light had almost reached its full potential. I was late, very late, and I had never been late to anything in my life, at least before Melkor. Now I seemed to be making a habit of it. I jumped up, my body creaking in protest at being put through physical exertion so soon after its ordeal. There was no time to eat or to change, so I just ran a hand hurriedly through my hair, splashed some water on my face in an attempt to make myself look slightly less dead, and fled from the room, tearing down the black tablecloth I had pinned up on the way. This wasn’t just a personal meeting with Aulë, this was a council with the entirety of the Valar as well as all my peers. I had to be on time. I skidded through the halls, letting feathers sprout from my back and talons from my feet. It took some effort, but I managed to shift my clothes with me as well. It only occured to me later that this had been the first time I had shape shifted with the mechanisms inside me, and that it had worked perfectly. I rounded a corner to the nearest balcony, flung open the doors, and jumped off. I was now fully in the shape of a russet falcon, and I beat my wings in desperation, taking advantage of every air current I encountered to push me to Manwë’s palace. Well, palace wasn’t really the right word. It was more of an ornate office building. I usually liked to admire the lifelike statues carved into its walls, and the breathtaking murals of scenery painted on every surface of the marble, but this time I just flew directly to the council chambers. There was a balcony there, and I shifted back into my most comfortable form half in midair, rolling when I landed so I didn’t break my legs. Then I remembered that my legs were made out of titanium and there were very few things in Arda that could break them now. After adjusting my hair again, I prepared to stride into the room. Then I glanced down at my tunic, and a multitude of highly colorful words that I wouldn't dare say around Aulë ran through my head. I certainly didn’t remember it being this translucent when I had picked it out. Why did I even own such a garment? I cursed my own stupidity at waking up so late, but at this point it was too late to go back and change, so I just sighed and smoothed some of the invisible wrinkles out of the silk. Then, taking a deep breath in preparation, I eased open the masterfully engraved doors, and stepped into the council room. All seven of the Valar and their two most trusted Maiar were already there. All of them were conversing in hushed whispers among themselves. All of them stopped the moment I walked in, and turned their heads to stare at me. I met their gazes coolly, closing the door behind me, and strode over to the empty seat beside Aulë, keeping my head raised as if in defiance. Manwë cleared his throat with a breath of air, and when he spoke, his voice was that of the whispers in the wind and the rustle of leaves shaken by swirls of air.  
“Maia of Aulë. Could you explain why you are late?” There was something about him that, after spending so much time with his brother, felt eerily off to me. He was currently enrobed in a humanoid fana, just as everyone else here was, although I believed that that was to remain courteous to the Maiar, who possessed less control over their more elemental forms. In this form, he had the same high cheekbones as his brother, the same long, wild hair, although his was pure white instead of black, and the same cold, blue eyes that seemed to tear my ëalar to pieces. Melkor wore the look better, though. Perhaps it was the change in hair color that accented the lightness of his eyes. I suppressed a nervous swallow, bending my knees in a subtle bow.  
“I apologize, Lord Manwë,” I considered lying, but since that hadn’t gone so well last time I decided against it. “I slept in. When I woke up I was already late.” He waved his hand, and I felt a breath of air push against me, guiding me to take a seat. I sat down. Everyone in the room tilted their heads to look at me, most of them humming with surprise and confusion, while Aulë and Yavanna just sounded dismayed, and perhaps a little worried. Curumo, seated on Aulë's other side, looked delighted with the situation. Eönwë was doing his best not to make eye contact with me. It must be killing the self-righteous bastard to not snitch on me there and then, but his ridiculous ability to see the best in everyone would keep his mouth shut. He had not offered to share a room with me after initially catching Melkor, and a part of me felt guilty for betraying his trust. Another part of me called him a coward who could not see the truth of Melkor’s true power, who was too wrapped up in a cloud of his own perfection to see the suffering of those around him. I concentrated on that part, and quelled the rest with considerable ease. Manwë spoke again, cutting through any more guilt that I might have possessed.  
“Next time, Aulëndil, please remember to dress formally for such an occasion.” I had never been particularly self-conscious about my fana, but now I longed for nothing more than to slip under the table and turn invisible. Perhaps it was something about Aulë and Yavanna’s disappointed murmurs. I hated disappointing people. Manwë stood up, and his cloak billowed out around him with the motion, sending feathers leaping about him.  
“Now that all members are present, we may start with the council. As I am sure you all know, we are here today to discuss the Dark Vala, whose forces and power are getting stronger. Recently he has always seemed to be one step ahead of us, which is troubling at best. He has overtaken much of the land we previously held, and I intend to take that land back. Aulëndil,” My head snapped up, panic racing through me when I realized he was speaking to me again. “The reason you are here today is because Aulë has informed me that you may possess valuable information concerning my brother’s plans. Would you care to reveal that information so that we may make use of it?” Everyone’s eyes were on me again. I felt Eönwë’s gaze especially, burning me with its fire. I usually loved attention. And fine, maybe my lies had fallen flat on their face the last time, and maybe I currently looked and felt like shit, but being in the center of attention was still my specialty. I stood up, feeding off of their gazes, my mind reeling with all the lies I was about to weave. I let a smile slip onto my face. Eönwë watched me carefully. They must believe me now, or I would never obtain the intel Melkor needed to win this fight. With my past mistakes blazing fiercely in my mind, a warning to myself that I swore I would learn from, I opened my mouth, and told them everything.


	16. Of Letters and Handwriting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't sure if I should combine this chapter and the last chapter or not, but I decided not to, so this is kinda short I believe? Or not?  
Oh well. Mairon you have already had enough chapters to yourself u attention loving fire gremlin

After the council, I took some more immunosuppressant medicine again, just in case. I would have to ask one of the Maiar more specialized in healing if just taking it once was enough, or if I had to continue taking it for a while. I sincerely hoped that it would be the former; I could not even begin to imagine relying on a drug to keep me alive. The headache that had been nagging at the corners of my mind since this morning had gotten worse, and I was mildly nauseous from the stress of the council. But they had believed me. I had given them some bullshit information about Melkor’s fortresses’ defenses, and that he was far weaker than he let on. I had made sure to tie it at least a little to the truth, to ensure that the basics of my story remained solid. I pulled off the dreaded silken tunic, and changed into something more appropriate. I had half a mind to throw the thing into a fire, but draped it on the headboard of my bed instead. As I was doing so, my eyes alighted on a piece of parchment resting on my pillow. I picked it up. It was an envelope, with the recipient of the letter scribbled in Melkor’s horrendously messy handwriting on top; it was addressed to Tevildo, the alias I used when I wished to be seen in public at the Dark Lord’s side. I slid a pointed nail, painted black because aesthetic, under the wax seal. It was stamped with a dragon. That meant that he had made the dragons his official symbol. I struggled to prevent a wicked grin from racing across my face, and opted to carefully tear the paper around the seal instead of breaking it. I opened the envelope, the paper rustling at the movement, then pulled out the letter inside. The handwriting on this was just as awful, but with some difficulty I managed to discern it.

_How did the council go? What information did you gather about the attack? Write it all out and leave it on your windowsill. One of my agents will come to collect it at night. Also, I plan to have you reveal your new allegiance during this fight. So you should probably try to improve your skills on the battlefield. I would prefer to meet up in person at least once before they attack. Send a reply as soon as you can. If you don’t I’m going to assume they either figured you out, or you decided to betray me. Oh, and one more thing; I would advise you get rid of this letter. Maybe eat it or something? - M_

Did he still honestly think I would ever betray him? I bit my lip, setting the parchment down on the small table I had in my room, on which I held an inkwell and pen, several stacks of parchment, and a locked cabinet filled with more personal papers and anything else I wished to keep private. I shoved the letter in here now, locking it again with a spell. The wood was reinforced so that only I could break it. I would destroy the letter properly later. I tugged out the chair, and sat down, pulling a blank piece of paper towards me and grabbing the pen. I dipped it into the ink, tapping it against the side of the inkwell to get rid of any droplets of extra ink, and started writing. My handwriting was practical yet ornate, as most things I did were. The letters slanted noticeably to the right, and each stroke was clearly defined while still remaining sharp and light. The ink glistened with the reflected light pouring from my open window every time I moved the paper, the black droplets as dark as Melkor’s pupils. A lesser layman might have taken excessive ink onto the stylus and caused heavy drips to run down their letters, the ink pooling in oceans where too much of it gathered in crinkles in the rough parchment. I did nothing of the sort, my writing of an almost robotic quality, although I would admit that the depth of my upwards strokes did occasionally vary, but not so much as to be distracting. A simple flaw, yet it caused me much frustration. I justified it in my mind by telling myself that my area of expertise was metalwork, not penmanship, and when that didn’t work by thinking of Melkor and his horrible scrawl. He certainly wouldn’t mind or notice such a flaw, and he was the only one who would see this letter anyway. That eased my consciousness significantly, and I was able to continue writing without much discomfort, at least until my pen slipped and created a miniscule dot where there should not be one. I stared at it for a moment, cursing myself. Then I gave in, and doodled a curling dragon over the dot to conceal it. But the dragon didn’t look right either. I specialized in technical drawings, not doodles. I let myself growl softly in frustration, hesitating for a moment. Melkor wouldn’t care if my drawing looked wrong. And yet, it would be a stain on my personal pride if I sent it like this. I grabbed the paper, crumpling it up into a ball of wrinkled edges, and threw it into my fireplace, where its flaws would be burnt away when I lit it. I was just as meticulous when it came to forgework, and watching the pile of discarded projects next to my desk slowly grow over the course of my work was a true spectacle to behold, at least according to the other Maiar. The one time I had not had to redo something several times had been when designing my own fana for the first time, before I had ever assumed a physical form before, and later when I had been creating the automaton reinforcements for that fana. Then, everything had seemed to flow naturally from my fingertips, perfection coming eagerly at my call. I wished I could recapture those moments, but alas, I supposed it was not to be. And no one could say that I truly _minded_ having to keep restarting projects; it was part of my process, and I had come to embrace it as such. I grabbed another piece of parchment, and started the letter over. Fifteen crumpled up balls of paper and plenty of smoke and ash from their burning later, I was finally done. I smiled in relief at the letter lying on the desk in front of me, as though it was a child who had accomplished some difficult task that I was proud of, and let it sit there for a few minutes for the dark ink to fully dry. Melkor would know exactly what the Valar were planning, exactly where they intended to strike and, most importantly, he would know their weak points. I had truly betrayed my people now; this information was crucial beyond the point of the petty gossip I had previously whispered into Melkor’s ears. If the Valar ever found out, I would be beaten and locked up for all eternity. But then again, if I had refused him Melkor might have done the same. Or he may have simply nodded and found someone else to do the job. He was unpredictable, unknown; a new mystery for me to solve, a new puzzle for me to undertake. The thought sent a stab of delight racing through me. I adored puzzles: the fulfillment of delicate curiosity as I explored the unknown, only for it to suddenly all come together, for it all to suddenly make sense. I rolled up the parchment, careful not to crease it, and tied it up with a blue ribbon lying on my desk. I then tied it to my window pane, ensuring that the knot was secure so that Manwe’s winds would not blow it away. Then, I sat back in my chair, arms crossed, one leg resting atop the other, hair flowing lazily down my shoulder in a loose braid. My rapacious grin would have sent many lesser Maiar fleeing in the opposite direction, casting glances filled with a mix of adoration and terror back at me over their shoulders. The contrast between being feared, and being loved. Was there truly such a great difference? One could argue I feared Melkor just as much as I adored him. Perhaps all the Ainur in Valinor would feel a twisted version of the same emotions when I left them. That was truly a gleeful idea. My name was not the Admirable One for nothing. They would adore me, they would bow before me in a tumult of awe and terror, they would love me and fear me and know that I was truly better than them all. I wiped any remaining ink from the stylus with a piece of dirty cloth, watching the color bleed into the white fabric before I threw it into the fire along with the failed letters. I set the now clean stylus onto the table in its proper place, adjusting it so as to be perfectly aligned with the other instruments resting on the wood. This battle was going to be perfect, and I would be in the center of it all. Outside, in the darkness of the trees surrounding Aulë’s forges, one of Melkor’s shadows watched my window, waiting for the blinding light of Ormal to fade so that it could snatch up my letter and leap across darkened paths, clutching its prize in ragged talons. In further darkness still, Melkor waited for an answer. He would get one soon enough, and he would attack at the first mingling of the lights of Ormal and Illuin, beautiful destruction and possibility sweeping a wide path under his footsteps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you tell how much I love describing handwriting? Writing this gave me such satisfaction it's insane


	17. Of Replies and Crows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayyy here have an entire chapter of Melkor complaining about various stuff

I pinned the offending Maia against the wall, my hands wrapped around her throat, snarling in annoyance.  
“What the fuck do you mean the soldiers are protesting??” She attempted to scramble away, pure terror lacing her eyes.  
“W-T- They want more- rations,” she managed to gasp out, and I let go of my hold on her so that the wretched thing could at least speak. “They say there’s not enough food, that they can’t fight on such meager provisions,” she stammered, rubbing her throat with one twisted hand, eyeing me nervously, her presence a mere drop of shadow against my looming power. I sighed, and considered snapping her neck in frustration, but decided that it was more effort than was necessary. Not to say that it presumably wouldn’t help my case. I instinctively ran a hand through my hair, closing my eyes in an angry sigh.  
“Well tell them we don’t have any more provisions, and if they protest, they’ll be executed.” The poor Maia almost fainted in relief, quivering with the reassurance that my rage wasn’t directed at her. She bowed deeply, already backing away from my terrible gaze.  
“As you wish, my lord,” she replied, and scurried away, much like some rat fleeing a predator. I snorted. How was I expected to lead an army of such spineless fools? Scratch that, how was I supposed to lead an army in the first place? I was certainly no tactician, nor did I know shit about managing a nation. Plus there was paperwork. Oh, Eru, there was so much paperwork. Why was there so much paperwork? And why did I need to read all of it? I couldn’t care less about what officer wanted to execute what orcs, or if my messenger wanted a new pet bat. Actually, I did care about that last one. I really didn’t want her to accidentally set loose another swarm of bats in my room while I was trying to sleep. It was getting annoying. But other than that, as long as they did their jobs, why did my officials need my opinion for every tiny thing? It was fucking bullshit, that’s what it was, which is why I desperately needed a Lieutenant who could do all the boring stuff while I could mess around with whatever chemicals or however many murder sprees I wanted. I collapsed into my chair, groaning loudly. Stupid responsibilities. Even my own thoughts sounded whiny to me. Tevildo better reply soon, so we could get this fight over with and I could finally have an official Lieutenant to dump a shit ton of paperwork on. Knowing him, Tevildo would probably be delighted. He would probably marry his paperwork if he could. What a freak. I’d rather he married me. Would it be possible to shapeshift into paperwork? According to Eru, Ainur could only shift into living creatures, but then again Eru was wrong about a lot of things. I was about to attempt it out of the sheer need for a distraction as well as due to my curiosity, when a gentle thump at the window caught my attention. It appeared that a far better distraction had arrived. I sprang out of the chair, leaping to the window and flinging it open. A crow sat on my windowsill, its wing at a crooked angle, blinking up at me. Ah. Not what I had been expecting. I was about to push it off of the sill and to its immediate death, when I realised that this was a bird. And all birds reported back to my brother. And this one appeared to be fairly young; namely, good spy material. When Tevildo revealed his new allegiance I was going to need a new inside agent to report the comings and goings of the Valar. I picked the crow up, not quite sure how to handle it, and set it on my desk. I then tied a small rope around its right leg, then tied the other end of it to the supporting rods on my shelf so that it couldn’t fly away. After filling a small bowl with water with a snap of my fingers, and setting it in in front of the bird, I leaned back in my chair, watching the thing peck at the liquid. I had left the window open, and one of my brother’s breezes stroked at my hair, sending the tangled mess of dark strands twisting around my face. I blew them away, turning in my seat to glance outside. The expanse of land around Utumno was a mass of freezing glaciers and stone, flakes of solid water blew in drafts across the ground, swirling into agile patterns that collapsed into themselves as though they were waves. It was amusing to me, how water behaved in such a similar way both when it was a liquid and a solid. I closed my eyes, inhaling deeply. The air smelt wild and bitter, a crisp ice that burned and blackened mortal flesh, that sucked the energy out of this world until everything was still, waiting to be infused with heat so that they could spring to life one more. Life and death, heat and cold. It was an endless cycle, and Tevildo and I were on opposite sides of it. I felt the breeze stir against my cheek, and slowly opened my eyes, pupils contracting to adjust to the light. Face to face with me, was a shadow. I shrieked in surprise, and jumped a foot into the air, scrabbling for a hold on the back of my chair. Both the chair and I fell backwards, luckily onto the cold, hard, stone floor, with a reverberating crash. I hissed, then stood up again, smoothing down my robes. The shadow tilted its head at me. I cleared my throat.  
“Ahem. Apologies for that. You… uh, startled me. Don’t do that again or I may have to disembowel you.” The shadow did not seem particularly worried, presumably because it didn’t actually have any organs for me to disembowel, which meant that I had just delivered a rather empty threat. “Do you have a reply?” I hurriedly changed the subject. The creature held out a taloned limb, in which a neat scroll tied with a blue ribbon was held. I grabbed it, ripping away the ribbon, and waved my hand dismissively to the shadow. It bowed its head, and with a flurry of pitch black feathers and scales, it had melted into its strange, voidlike realm, to remain there until I required its assistance again. I unfurled the scroll, dropping the ribbon to the ground. Someone could clear it up afterwards. A murmur at the back of my mind told me that my original letter could have been intercepted, and that this could be a forgery or a fake, but when my gaze alighted on the handwriting I was certain that it was not. Literally no one else would have such ridiculously meticulous writing.

_Lord Melkor. The Valar’s attack will come in seven cycles of Ormal and Illuin. You have more time than we previously envisaged. I have informed them that the weakest part of Utumno is the southern wall. They have made plans to attack from that direction. Their armies are larger and more powerful than yours, however, they have not the same heavy duty weaponry, nor do they have armor that could withstand such weaponry. I have also informed them that the numbers of your armies barely read one hundred foot soldiers. I am not sure if they entirely believed me on that statement, so Lord Manwe planned to lead an army of up to five hundred Maiar, as well as any wild creatures that choose to fight with them. The army will be split into divisions of one hundred or so Maiar, led by two officers in case one falls in the fight. I will be one of those. The Valar plan to surround Utumno, with the bulk of their forces at the southern gate. The only actual Vala present will be Manwë, to lead them. Aulë and Yavanna will also be there, to manipulate the earth to their advantage. The rest will be holding Almaren in case you attempt to attack them there. I suggest that you keep your soldiers away from the fight, and diminish their forces using the machinery I have designed. Then, once you believe that your meager amount of soldiers will be able to contend with what is left of their army, you can let them onto the battlefield. As for your request to meet up once more, I do not believe that it would be safe. Eönwë is keeping his mouth shut for now, but I cannot guarantee his silence forever. However, if you truly are that desperate, I have asked Aulë for a time of one day for a project he requested of me which should only take a few hours. Thus, I will have most of tomorrow free. If all goes to plan, I will come to Utumno before noon, and we can train. Be warned that it is very likely that all will not go to plan, and I will not come, so do not get your hopes up. Good luck with the preparations. Also, please remember to not fire at my division during the battle. I would rather not have to go to the trouble of rebuilding this fana. - T _

I shoved the paper onto the cluttered shelf where I kept all the stuff Tevi sent me. On it, there lay mostly bundles of letters detailing various points of information about the plans of the Valar and technical drawings, as well as a few metallic trinkets he had made; they were mainly prototypes for larger weapons, but littered amongst those there were some statues and jewelry too. I had stolen most of the non-prototype ones, so technically they shouldn’t be on the shelf of stuff Tevildo gave me… but also, I couldn’t really be bothered to set aside a new shelf. The parchment rustled against the other letters when I set it down, the rough paper sliding out of my fingers. The crow lifted its head in curiosity, intelligent eyes gazing up at me, droplets of water shining on its beak from where it had drunk.  
“What are you looking at?” I sneered, and let myself fall back into the chair, arms crossed, my hair fanning out around me in curls of night. I had no idea where to even begin training the bird. I wasn’t usually a huge fan of avians, but that was entirely due to my brother’s lordship over them. Maybe they weren’t so bad after all. I watched the crow peck at my desk as though searching for invisible crumbs, its razor sharp talons cleaving light scores in the wood. I imagined those clawing at one of the Valars’ faces, and a pointed grin spread across my face. Tomorrow, I would have to ask Tevildo if he could talk to Eönwë about bird-training techniques. As if sensing my thoughts, the bird reared up, wings flaring out and beating wildly, but it was constrained by the tie on its foot. It’s wings were dark as my shadows. I imagined those wings as reptilian and batlike, with a thin membrane of scales in place of feathers. Crows would certainly not replace my glorious dragons, but they could be a good back up, not to mention the joy it would bring me to corrupt one of my brother’s precious birds. The crow eventually settled down, turning its head to look at me with fury in its eyes. I met its gaze. Yes, I thought, drawing my lips back to reveal pointed fangs, snarling at the bird for its insolence; I finally had a replacement spy for Tevildo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yea crows are pretty cool, right?


	18. Of Practice and More Practice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, as with everything I ever write, I mostly hate this now, but I've actually also finished it so I will try to update regularly until the end :)

He sent a stream of heat racing towards me, but I easily deflected it with a wave of my hand. Thus, I was prepared when he jumped on me, hands blazing with fire in an attempt to burn my face off. I thrust my sword upwards to stab his stomach, but he leapt away. The flames in his hands hadn’t done anything to harm me except leave burnt holes in my clothing. He fell gracefully into a ready stance, letting the fire licking across his skin die down. I threw my sword at him and dissolved into shadow. As I had expected, he ducked, but by that point I had already glided over until I was positioned behind him. There, I materialised silently back into my corporeal form, caught the sword, and pressed its jagged metal against his throat. He froze, knowing that I had won.  
“Nice try,” I growled gently, pulling the sword away. Tevildo frowned, running a hand along the spot on his neck where its blade had been.  
“Why did my power have zero affect on you?” He asked once I had sheathed my blade. I shrugged.  
“I’m a Vala, and the most formidable one at that. I’m pretty sure it’s impossible for you to harm me even if you tried.” He nodded slowly as if in understanding. I continued, “Also, not to be a bitch but you’re not very powerful.” His head snapped up at that,  
“What? But, I’m the best at-”  
“At forgework, yes. I’m not talking about intellectual power though.” He lifted his chin in annoyance.  
“I can lift the heavy metals while working just fine. And I can heat them to a degree no other Maia can achieve.”  
“But can you heat an entire room to that degree? Or just a tiny point on the metal.” He paused.  
“I see your point.”  
“And you’re also far too stiff. You have to be lighter on your feet. And I can tell whenever you’re about to attack; you obviously plan ahead, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing I suppose, but you can’t make it that obvious.” He softly bit his lip.  
“Alright then. Is there anything I’m actually good at?” I scowled momentarily in guilt at his dejected expression.  
“Yea. You’re pretty good for someone who’s never really trained properly before. And you’re really dexterous. Maybe you can try switching your weapon from hand to hand in the middle of a fight to confuse your opponent or something like that?” Tevildo tilted his head in a distinctly canine like way, and I could almost see the thoughts swirling around him.  
“You shapeshifted as well,” he said.  
“Yea, I did, but that’s hard to do in the middle of a battle with all the stress and everything. I probably wouldn’t have done that in a real fight.” He dipped his head, taking a step backwards, but there was a new spark in his eyes.  
“If you say so.” We exchanged blows for a while longer, until Tevildo was panting in exhaustion, and I, too, felt mildly weary. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve, and I wondered what idea he’d had; he must not have implemented it because I hadn’t noticed a change in his fighting style. He still wasn’t very good.  
“You need to stop trying to emulate how I fight. You’ll stand no chance if you do that. Try to be more subtle instead of just charging at me.” I blew away a strand of hair that had escaped from where I had tied it back, and readjusted my grip on the sword. Tevildo tipped his head in understanding, and let the fire seep back into his palms. This time, instead of just attacking, he pressed his heated hand against the ground. I watched the rock of the courtyard bubble and melt, oozing in golden streams over his skin.  
“I’m going to have to get someone to rebuild that, y’know,” I remarked, watching him with curiosity. He let the lava flow into a pointed, swordlike shape, then the flames in his hands flickered out. The stone solidified, but it still glowed burning hot. “Stone doesn’t make for a very good weapon.” I cautioned. He chuckled.  
“Yes, I believe I would know. I’m the blacksmith here, after all.” I swallowed at the thinly veiled frustration in his voice. He must really hate losing this many times in a row. As always, he twisted his center of balance slightly backwards just before attacking, meaning that I could anticipate his lunges. Despite my previous words, this time he still charged directly forwards at me. I reached out to seize his makeshift weapon, hoping to shatter it with my vice grip, but when I grabbed it it was pliable and liquid like in my grasp, and flowed across my skin, encasing my hand. Tevildo’s eyes flashed, and the lava immediately solidified, partially thanks to the bitter cold emanating from my skin. My hand was trapped. I looked down at it, stunned, and while I was distracted Tevildo wrapped his hands around my sword. I wrenched it away, flexing my other hand to shatter the stone, but the damage was already done. My sword was now a dripping mess of liquid, molten metal that had absolutely no capability for stabbing people. I snarled at Tevildo, who danced away before I could swat at him with my newly freed hand. I dropped the useless sword hilt, so that I now had the full use of both my hands, and burst into shadows, fluttering until I was directly above Tevildo. There, I re-materialised, dropping onto him. He yelped in surprise, when I landed nimbly on his shoulders, increasing the density of my fana so that he could not carry me. His legs, as expected, collapsed underneath him with a sound like grinding metal and gears and he fell face first onto the ground. I sat crouched on his back, smirking triumphantly.  
“Get off me,” he muttered, his voice sounding rather muffled against the stone his face was pressed up against.  
“You weren’t complaining last time I was on top of you,” I replied with a broad grin, stepping to the side and standing up to let him do the same. He sat upright, and grabbed my offered hand to drag himself up. His left ankle was twisted at a slightly awkward angle. I gestured at it. “That doesn’t look too good. Are you all right?” He nodded, bending down, and smacked his deformed ankle with a fist. I winced at the sound of some bone or another popping into place, but when he rose again and let his full weight onto both feet, he seemed to be relatively alright. Although you could never tell with Tevildo. He could be dying for all I knew, and I probably wouldn’t realise it. I was generally quite good at reading people, having spent an eternity around my brother, but Tevildo had the power to baffle even me. He brushed the dust from his thankfully black robes. They were embroidered with golden patterns, loose at the shoulders, with the aureum sigil of an eye decorating his chest. The sleeves had been pinned back so that they didn’t hinder his movements, and there were multiple slits in the skirt so he wasn’t restrained, but they still seemed awfully unpragmatic for this purpose. Although he was rather vain, so I wouldn’t put it past him to suffer minor impracticalities for the sake of appearances.  
“Was that better?” He was less frustrated now, an easy expression of satisfaction gracing his face despite the fact that he had still lost. But, then again, it was essentially impossible for him to beat me.  
“Much better.” I admitted. It was still not good enough to take down many of the stronger Maiar, however I suspected he knew that. “If you’re commanding a portion of the army-”  
“A division,” He corrected.  
“Whatever. In any case, you shouldn’t be at the forefront of the fighting. So keep your wits about you, don’t take on anyone stronger than yourself, and you should be fine.”   
“Yea. I believe you may be the one who has to be reminded to keep his wits about him, though. If you’d had any in the first place that is.” I snorted, then realised that it was probably true and that he was calling me a dumbass.  
“Shut up.”  
“I have to leave soon anyway, so if you really want I can go early?” He suggested pleasantly. I glowered, my dignity and my will to keep him here at odds with each other. Eventually I found a relative compromise.  
“No. You’re mine, and I order you to stay here.”  
“Are we done training then?” He asked, eyes glittering at the tone of my voice. I eyed my ruined mess of a sword.  
“Yea, sure. Let’s end on a good note then. Also could you fix that for me?” He followed my gaze to the sword, and nodded. I watched him walk over to the weapon, and pick it up, studying its remains with a fascinating intrigue.  
“I could make a better weapon for you, if you’d like.” He said quietly. I shrugged.  
“Go ahead, if you want. I’d be honored.”  
“Is there a certain type of weapon you want?”  
“Nah, I can wield almost anything. You can exercise your artistic freedom.” He looked up at me, and his expression was one of absolute elation.  
“All right then. Just remember that whatever I end up making, it was technically your fault.” He let the melted sword tilt out of his grip, and fall onto the ground with a clang that resonated through the courtyard.  
“Well now you’ve got me excited.”  
“As you should be,” he responded with a faint grin. Now that I thought about it, he didn’t look too good. Which was strange, because he was usually rather endurant, but I supposed that everyone had their off days. I stepped closer to him.  
“How much more time do you have? Before you have to go back?” He glanced at the light of Ormal shining in the distance.  
“An hour or two. You’re right, we should probably keep training-”  
“That’s not why I asked.”  
“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow.  
“Yea. I really need someone to fill out all this paperwork for me.” He leaned upwards on his toes, and I bent down a little, so he was able to rest his forehead on mine. He blinked, and I watched in captivation as his pupils contracted after the motion, only to dilate again once they became accustomed to the light.  
“I’d love to do that.” He seemed completely serious. I pulled away nervously.  
“As in- you’d do paperwork… willingly? Actually? You haven’t been possessed by my brother... have you?” He shuddered in mock disgust.  
“Oh, I hope not. I doubt you’d let me within six feet of you if I was.” Noticing my slightly incredulous expression, he laughed, which I hadn’t heard him do properly in a while. It was nice. “There’s just a, well, a strange sort of… contentedness, as I believe it was called, in filling out all those forms. You know? Doing everything the _right_ way?” I shook my head with a grin, leaving him to his sinister ways.  
“Only you would ever say that.”  
“I’m pretty sure Eönwë, or your brother, would too. Or even half the Maiar in Almaren.”  
“A bunch of freaks, the lot of them.”  
“Would that make me a freak too?” He blinked up at me, wide eyes surprisingly convincing.  
“Yea, but you’re my freak.” I proclaimed, ruffling his hair. He jumped away, his expression of entreatment morphing into one of pure, barely restrained fury with formidable speed.  
“Don’t,” he began with a sharpness to his tone that would have sent anyone else running, “Don’t you dare touch my hair like that again.” I grinned at him, and, reaching out, tousled his hair again, but this time I didn’t let go, and tugged at it until he was forced to step towards me again. There was such anger in his eyes at this, that for a moment I was genuinely afraid he would claw my eye out or something, but he just slowly reached up, wrapping his hand around my wrist, and loosened my grip from his hair. “Was I unclear about something? Or maybe you would prefer a scar to remind you,” He stated through gritted teeth, his voice dangerously cool. I leaned down to press our lips together, tilting my head into the kiss, but he evidently wasn’t having it because he stepped back with his arms crossed. I sighed.  
“I swear I won’t do it again. Just please let me kiss-”   
“Uh uh. You had your chance. Plus, I should probably leave now anyway. Goodbye, Melkor.” He turned on his heel, and stalked away, but not before he let me spot the carefully concealed glint of humor in his expression. Taking that as an invitation, I bounded after him, misjudged the length of my stride compared to his, and half crashed into him. He whirled around, scowling, and for a moment I feared that I had misinterpreted how much he truly cared about the state of his hair.  
"I would threaten to do the same to your hair and see how you feel, but after observing the state of it I somehow doubt you'd care much," he retorted, but it was half-hearted, and the scowl had slipped from his face. I kissed the top of his head in relief.  
"We both already know your acting skills are good; you don't need to tease me like that."  
"Perhaps, but the expression on your face was priceless," he replied. I rolled my eyes at the smugness in his voice, but all such concerns were immediately banished from my mind when he rested his forehead against my chest as he was wont to do. I glanced longingly at his hair again, weighing my options. On one hand, seeing him furiously attempt to smooth it out was hilarious, but on the other hand, I didn't actually want to face the extent of his genuine anger. Decisions, decisions. Before I could do anything I might later regret, though, he spoke; "We have an hour. What would you like to do, if not training?" I opened my mouth to reply, but he interrupted. "Why am I even asking; I already know what your answer will be."  
"Yea? So you'd be cool?"  
"I mean, why not? I don't really have anything better to do."  
"Great! I'll go get the paperwork." I gr, but he just seemed slightly bemused.  
"Paperwork?"  
"Yes, paperwork. Oh, and speaking of that, could you also ask your bird friend how they train the eagles and shit? I found a crow who might be of use."   
"Bird friend? Do you mean Eönwë?" I nodded.  
"Yea."  
"Sure, I’ll do that. But, well- I must admit I didn't particularly think you'd want to do paperwork." I snickered, eyes glittering pools of ice.  
"I know. I was messing with you, you weirdly paperwork obsessed idiot." He paused, as if to process this new information, then ran a hand through his hair.  
"You were- oh." He almost looked disappointed, and I narrowed my eyes at him.  
"Why do I have a feeling you'd rather do paperwork than me?" Seeing my slightly crestfallen look, he tapped at his chin thoughtfully, and an unusual smile spread across his face.  
"Y'know what? I bet you we could do both."  
"Like… at the same time?"  
"Why not? I have to fill in a bunch of stuff for Aulë too anyway.” I laughed, unable to contain my grin,   
"Perhaps I underestimated your capability to do stupid shit."  
"You say that like doing stupid shit is a good thing." I shrugged.  
"It is when you're usually such a stick in the mud." He tossed his head in offense at that, glaring up at me disdainfully.  
"I am not a stick in the mud."  
"Not after that suggestion you're not. How would you even do that anyway?”  
“I believe you’re underestimating my ability to multitask.”  
“And I believe you’re underestimating my ability to distract you.”  
“Alright then. If you’re so sure, then let’s see who's better.” I grabbed his arm, and he let himself be dragged in the general direction.  
“Just as warning, though, this is going to be a losing battle for you.” I cautioned. He snorted, unfazed.  
“In that case, I suppose I will simply have to prove you wrong.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :eyes emoji:


	19. Discovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so, basically, I didn't know what to do with this. I didn't update it for so long because aaaa old writing that I didn't like. But now I decided that it would be a waste not to upload it, and tbh it's not the worst thing I've ever written, so time for some rapid updates !

Aulë glanced down at my work, then back up at me. I shifted nervously.  
“Are you sure this is your work?” I bit my lip, feeling the blood well up. My hands were clasped behind my back for lack of something better to do with them, but I dropped them to my sides now, reaching up to brush invisible dust from my shoulders.  
“Yes, my Lord.” He looked down again at my work, and I could feel his displeasure thrumming through the walls of the building. I swallowed.  
“Have you been drinking, Mairon?” He said eventually. A part of me wanted to say yes, if only to get this questioning over with, but I knew that would lead to a lot more trouble than it was worth.  
“No, my Lord. I understand just as well as any other Maia that drinking to excess is not a wise decision.”  
“You were not under the influence of any substances when you wrote this?”  
“No, my Lord.” He was unconvinced. The stone of the floor under my feet was almost vibrating with his annoyance.  
“Then could I ask, why your handwriting looks like this, when it is usually impeccable?” He set the papers down in front of me, sliding them so that I wouldn’t have to tip my head to read them. I had to admit that, under the circumstances, I had done a remarkable job. It was still legible, for one thing. It was also in relatively neat lines, not scrawled in a mess across the paper. There were, however, quite a few ink stains, which gave me an almost irresistible urge to redo the work. But I had no time; Aulë had expected it this morning, and I had had to practically run from Utumno to get here in time. Now that I thought about it, agreeing to meet Melkor when I had had work to do had been a terrible misjudgment on my part. I realized that I probably had to reply to Aulë, and ran through my options, eventually settling on a suitable excuse.  
“I was… multitasking. And very busy.”  
“I have seen you multitask on a far greater amount of work before, with far better results.” I stared at him, trying to gauge the level of his annoyance, but I was looking at a wall of stone. As a last resort, I stretched out a fiery tendril of my ëalar, hoping I could feel the intensity of his Song and understand from that. I was not prepared for the onslaught that met my ëalar. The first few notes I heard sounded like shattering rocks, screaming lava, the incessant and shrill shrieking of broken instrument strings or fingernails on a blackboard. It took nearly all my willpower not to double over, clutching my ears then and there. At first I thought that he was absolutely livid; I almost bolted out of the room then and there. But if he was truly as furious as his Song suggested, I believe he would have already struck me. So I attempted to calm my racing heartbeat, the metal straining with my fear and pain, and focused on Aulë. No, he wasn’t quite that angry. So why? Then it hit me; this was very similar to how Melkor’s Discord had sounded to me when I had first heard it. But then I had gotten to know him better, had gotten to understand his Song, and it sounded beautiful to me now. The same thing, but reversed, must have happened with Aulë. His Song usually spoke to me of love, of safety, of comfort, of shelter and the reassurance that all would be okay, laced with a bitter undertone of disapproval and warning that I would never be good enough. I swallowed again, unable to control the light shaking of my hands, so I just resorted to hiding them behind my back again. Not understanding Aulë’s Song, the one music that had been there almost my entire life… Melkor had well and truly corrupted me now. I suppressed a bitter laugh. There had always been a faint glimmer of hope, however foolish of me, that I could somehow make Aulë understand, that he and Melkor could see each other without attempting to rip each others’ throats out. Now I knew that was impossible; their Songs were too discordant, too dissonant with each other. It was either one or the other, and I supposed that I had already made and concreted that decision in the last couple of days. I lifted my chin as if in defiance, and focused on Aulë’s last statement.  
“Perhaps this time I was not feeling quite up to it.” There was a beat of silence.  
“That has never been a case before.”  
“But it doesn’t mean it will never be a case in the future. I cannot be perfect all the time, my Lord.”  
“Yes you can; it is in your nature.”  
“How do you know that about me? How do you know _anything_ about me?” I was pacing now, something I had never done in public before, and I cringed at the emotion cracking through, spilling into my voice. “No, you don’t, you can’t, and honestly I cannot expect anymore from you because you’re- you’re just a pile of rocks- I’m talking to a pile of goddamn rocks and expecting it to care-”  
“Mairon.” This time the floor definitely shook with his voice, and I stopped, taking a step back. I had never let my careful neutrality break in front of Aulë before. I cursed myself, refusing to meet his eyes, instead letting my gaze fall to the floor and slipping the mask over my face once again.  
“Apologies my Lord. I did not intend to react in such a way.” Perhaps Melkor was starting to rub off on me, in more ways than one at least. Usually I would have easily had the self control to prevent such thoughts from leaving my mind. Or maybe I was just still distracted from last night, which was a rare possibility, but a possibility nonetheless.  
“Mairon.” He repeated, “I must admit that you have been behaving rather erratically recently. Since this strange endeavor of yours to weasel into the Dark Vala’s confidences, in fact. Is there anything I should know? Has something gone wrong?” I finally looked up, certainly not expecting such a sympathy. It would not be wrong to state that I wasn’t sure how to react. But then, an idea slowly formed in my head. Perhaps I could kill two birds with one stone, as Melkor liked to say; both distract Aulë, and show him what I had been aching to show him ever since I had finished. I took a deep breath, what I now knew to be excitement racing through me.  
“I have been… working. On a personal project.” I began carefully.  
“Oh?”  
“I have been working on... myself, I suppose you might say.” He was watching me with a steady attentiveness, eyes glowing pinpricks within a mass of lazily flowing stone and steel. My heart had begun to race once more, and I stepped towards him, holding out my arm. “You know what you said about my suggestion of automatons? How they were too impractical and could never be applied outside of theory?” He stepped towards me too, grabbing my offered arm with some hesitation.  
“Mairon… What did you do... ” There was a thinly veiled warning to his tone. I reached out, fingernails digging under the flap in my forearm, and opened it.  
“I had the idea after I heard your conversation with Yavanna,” I started, barely noticing the ridiculous earnestness in my own voice, “You said something about me not being good enough, and that got me thinking; what if I could make myself _better_? Well- technically most of my concern was in the area of academic competence, yet I still don’t entirely understand how our ëalar works, so I thought it would be better to start small. And despite your… warnings, I had already been experimenting with integrating mechanical parts into living creatures, although admittedly mainly for prosthetic purposes. So it was not the greatest hardship to get from there to actually incorporate such mechanics into my own fana. I replaced all of my organs too; the only thing left now is the skin, as I need that for its ability to detect touch, some muscle tissue in order to have a way of communicating with the brain, which I also left intact, as well as most neural pathways. In some places where I desperately needed to get rid of the pathways, I replaced them with a conductive material which actually worked just as well- perhaps we could find a way to use this to our… advantage…” I trailed off at the gentle pounding of Aulë’s anger in the very bones of the earth. He dragged me close, so that he could inspect my arm. The gears purred steadily on, and for a while the only sound in the room was their regular ticks, and my harsh breathing. Eru, why was it so hard to breath all of a sudden? He reached out a hand to touch the systems, but I pulled myself away, feeling suddenly strangely self conscious. If he were capable of it, I was certain that he would have been frowning.  
“And it’s like this all the way inside you? Even your heart and lungs?” His voice was dangerously low. My mouth felt dry, and I forced myself to nod. He might still like it- he might still say it was good. He might still pat me on the back, maybe pull me into a hug, tell me I had done amazing, that even he could never have dreamed of such clever systems. That was all I wanted, just for him to tell me the project I had literally given up my heart for was worth his approval.  
“Is it good?” I asked in an uncharastically small, timid voice. I wasn’t even sure if he’d heard, so quiet had I breathed it.  
“What have you done to yourself,” He whispered, and I froze, heart pounding so fast I was certain the metal would collapse in on itself. The walls shook subtly, in tune with the burning of his eyes, and I backed away, my exposed arm clutched to my chest. He raised his hand, and for a moment I was terrified, frozen with unbidden, utter panic, that he was going to smash me to pieces. But he just pointed at the door, and when he spoke his voice was a roar. “Get out. I will deal with this disaster later. Did I not tell you to stop messing with automatons? It is against Manwë, and thus Eru’s, will that we create life, especially out of something that is so distinctly _not_ supposed to be alive. Such a system is useless, against the order of natural things; it is inefficient, out of control, and will end in chaos and disorder. Get out, and do not touch a thing until I call you back for one of the healers to fix you, do you hear me?” I nodded, curled up as small as I was able to go, and pressed up against the wall as though I wished I could melt through and escape. He waved his hand, and the door slammed open. My gaze darted from him to the exit, panicked like some wild animal, and I finally bolted, sprinting out onto the corridor and away. I wasn’t sure where I was going- just away, away from here, away from the place I had failed so utterly and completely in. There were no tears in my eyes this time; No, I had not left such a weakness as tears in my new and improved fana- but no, it wasn’t improved, was it? This project had failed, and would have to be scrapped. Never mind the energy I had poured into it, never mind the welling of joy in my chest I had felt when I had first opened my arm to see all those systems working together so perfectly, never mind the pure euphoria I had felt when it was complete and, for once in my life, I was satisfied with the result of my work. None of that mattered, because Aulë had said that it had to be scrapped, and so it must be. I looked up, and my feet had carried me to the gates of Utumno. Melkor. I had not told him about this project either, if only because I had wanted to show Aulë first. Now I was certain I didn’t want to. I turned away, a part of me longing to step through those gates, but Aulë’s words were still on repeat in my brain, an incessant roar of self flagellation that I had numbed myself into. Useless, inefficient, _out of goddamn control, disorderly, against everything I have ever valued or strived for_. I turned away from Utumno, swaying on my feet, yearning for the approval of someone, _anyone_. If I walked through those gates now, I would most likely find it. But that would have been weak, needy, of me, so I forced my legs to cooperate, and limped away. Melkor could find a new Lieutenant, and I could find a way to completely destroy this fana so that no stain of its imperfection remained. Perhaps it would be a while before I could re-form. Perhaps I was now so out of tune with Aulë that he could not take me back into his care, and Melkor would certainly refuse me now for leaving him at such a time. Perhaps I would wander the earth forever, wishing for someone to tell me I was alright, before the final sparks of my flame sputtered out and I withered away. Perhaps… perhaps… the world was spinning, but it was a nice kind of spinning. I was floating. It was peaceful. I smiled sadly. Perhaps… perhaps it would all be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	20. Wolf

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //warning for a dead animal/gore
> 
> I think there was, in fact, a reason Mai grew to be associated with wolves

I opened my eyes to someone stroking my hair. No- not stroking. Nuzzling. And whoever it was, their nose was rather wet. I rolled onto my side to face a large she-wolf sniffing at my head. She was evidently old; one of her back legs was stiff, and I could see brushes of grey fur across her snout, but she still wagged her tail briefly when she saw me open my eyes. Even that small knowledge, that she was happy to see me, gave me a little strength. I reached up, hand shaking, to scratch her fondly behind the ears.  
"You don't happen to know of any volcanoes capable of melting unmeltable metal nearby, do you darling?" I murmured, the term of endearment coming easily to my lips. The wolf licked my cheek, and I wrinkled my nose. I had not taken any immunosuppressants today- if I was correct about how the medicine worked, not that I would trust my judgement these days, I thought bitterly, then I should begin to feel the effects of my self destructive immune system around this evening or tomorrow morning. Better to get somewhere safe where I could take the medicine in peace, then later destroy this failed fana. I didn't particularly believe that my legs were quite up to the task of carrying me yet, so I glanced at the old wolf instead. "Would you mind doing me a favor, I wonder?" The thing nudged me, which I accepted as an affirmative answer. I pulled myself up, grabbing tuftfulls of her fur, until I was half sitting, half laying on her back. Her fur smelled of the distinctive scent of canine, mixed with crushed pine needles and dirt. She started to walk forward, where to, I had no idea, but her gait soon fell into an easy rhythm. I wasn't sure how long I had been out for, but it couldn't have been more than an hour or so, and I had had a long week. So, despite my best efforts, I found myself falling again, this time into a proper, dreamless sleep. Before I faded out, I wondered where the wolf was going. It didn't really matter though, did it? It was in her instinct to look after those smaller than her, and perhaps I would humor her for a while. I had always liked wolves, anyway. I rested my cheek against her thick fur, deeply breathing in her warm, comforting scent, before once more drifting off into oblivion.

_~48 hours before the attack~_

I woke up, rubbing sleep from my eyes. The world seemed faded, blurred, under the comfortable veil of morning bleariness. I yawned, reaching into my pocket where I always kept the small blue bag of medicine. It had been a spontaneous decision to always keep it in my pocket, and one I was now unceasingly grateful for. I swallowed some of its contents, careful to not take all of it at once, and shoved it back in my pocket. It tasted bitter. There was bright light streaming through the ferns at the front of the den, and I assumed that it must be the following day. Speaking of the den, the she-wolf must have deposited me in hers. I was curled up in a bed of soft dirt, and the walls around me were of pale grey stone. I could smell the sharp tang of mud; I must be close to a river. The den was small, but then again so was I, so there was enough space left for even a large wolf to join me. Realistically, it would have been a wiser decision to shapeshift into a wolf pup, but I still didn’t feel too good and didn’t want to risk it. My mind did feel clearer, though. I sat up, resting my back against the wall of the den, running through my options. I was going to have to completely destroy this fana; no trace of it could remain. I had enchanted it to be as strong as possible, however, which meant that to melt it down completely I would need to throw it into a volcano. But there was no way I could reach a volcano before the immunosuppressants ran out and I collapsed. I frowned, tilting my head back in a sigh. I could probably melt it with my own fire, if I had not made the metal completely immune to any fire that originated from me. Unless… I could infuse my power into something else. Like… a dragon? I sat upright, my jaw set in determination. I would have to sneak into Utumno, find a dragon, and gift it a part of my power. I eyed the opening of the den, and began to crawl towards it, but a shadow stepped fluidly in front of me. The old wolf. She was carrying something in her mouth, and I caught the metallic scent of blood. She padded fully into the den, forcing me to scramble backwards, and dropped her prey in front of me. A dead rabbit, its throat torn out and bloodied. She was feeding me. I smiled weakly, my voice low, "I'm honored. I really am. But I have to go, I'm sorry." The wolf whined, nudging the rabbit. I attempted to force my way past her, but she growled, and I flinched back demurely. Seeing that I wasn't about to let this go, she settled herself in front of the only exit, her huge paws crossed over each other, gazing at me with deep set amber eyes expectantly. I ran my fingers through my hair, wincing at the dirt caught in it. As much as I wanted to argue, I really was pretty hungry. I hadn't eaten in far too long, and I had my doubts on how much longer this fana could last without food. "Fine. You win," I muttered, shooting her a glare. The dead rabbit was raw meat, which had the possibility of containing pathogens. Plus, now with my suppressed immune system, there was a large chance I could fall ill. But that didn't change the fact that I was suddenly ravenous. I tore away the skin of the rabbit with my sharp nails, a few lumps of flesh still clinging to it, and bit down onto the scarlet meat. The taste of blood spilled into my mouth, the liquid dribbling down my chin, but I somehow found that I couldn't care less. My pointed teeth easily shredded through muscle and nerve tissue, and I swallowed the chunk of flesh almost whole, relishing the feel of its weight in my stomach. In this way I gulped down the entire rabbit until only skin and bones were left. With surprising ease, I also cracked open its skull and bones, sucking out the brains and marrow until nothing was left. I understand now that the strange emptiness that I constantly carried with me, that I had almost become numb to, was actually the feeling of hunger. Huh. I gnawed contentedly at one of the bones, letting myself fall backwards until I was laying on the floor. Chances were that I would be sick later, but for now I relished the after taste of blood in my mouth and the feeling of a full stomach. The floor was cool, sucking the warmth out of me, and when I turned my head the dirt was comfortingly solid against my cheek. I could see every indentation in the earth, the little bumps behind which tiny shadows danced, the hollows that alluded to the paw prints of pups long gone. The she-wolf loped towards me, now satisfied that I wasn't about to leave, and settled down beside me. Her huge mass of fur was almost as a blanket at my side, and I turned to bury myself against it. "Oh darling… this really is a mess, isn't it," I murmured, feeling strangely exhausted. "If only I could stay here forever, but alas it appears that the world is more complicated than that." The old wolf rested her head on her paws as if in understanding, and began to thoroughly lick the blood away from my face. I simply lay there, eyes closed yet eyelids flickering with half formed thoughts, partially engulfed in her fur, and let myself be taken care of. Maybe I would stay here for a while longer than I had originally intended. It would be a while until I could reform in a corporeal form after destroying this fana anyway; I might as well make the most of the time I had before I met my inevitable doom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3  
I'll post a couple more chapters tomorrow


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //warning for just a little bit of smut ((it's not at all explicit, hence why I'm keeping the rating))
> 
> Ah these two idiots finally get together properly

_~24 hours before the attack~_

I paced through the hallways of Utumno, arms crossed, giving any Maia who dared make eye contact with me a death glare that sent them scurrying in the opposite direction. It might be a bit of a stretch to say that I was stressed about the battle, per se, but I did certainly have a lot of pent up energy that just wasn’t going away, hence the pacing. I found that my feet almost instinctively carried me in the direction of the dragons’ stable. Spending time with the creatures comforted me, in a strange way. There was something soothing about the way Glauring rested his huge head in my lap like a kitten, or seeing Ancalagon chase his own tail until he caught it and realized his grand mistake. They were living creatures, and they didn’t fear me, and something about that could never fail to make me smile. I walked up to the door of the stable, slid the bolt sideways, and eased it open with a creak that made me cringe internally. When the door was fully ajar, I strode inside, fully prepared for Ancalagon to jump at me, or the tiny Smaug to attempt to eat the hem of my cloak. What I was certainly not prepared for, however, was Tevildo. He must have heard me come in, because he flung around from where he had been facing Glauring, eyes wide. I stood still, tipping my head to the side, distinctly bemused.  
“What are you doing here? Not that I don’t want you here, but, y’know,” I asked. He didn’t reply, just blinked in fear as though he were a deer caught in a bright light. He looked awful; there was blood smeared across his face and down his robes, and his hair was tangled with blood, dirt, and mud. His clothes were also coated in a mixture of dust and mud, and even his usually immaculate fingernails were dirty. The fabric of his robes had been torn in several places, as though he had crawled through thorn bushes. “Tevildo?” Again, he didn’t respond, just stared at me as though I was a ghost. “Mairon!” I tried, then asked again, “What are you doing here? Did Aulë find out?” This time the strange glaze over his eyes disappeared, and he focused properly on me. Behind him, Glauring also looked shaken. His previously black and white irises were now golden, and he shifted on his feet nervously. In the corner, the rest of the dragons, with Ancalagon at the forefront, were crouched with the same fearful demeanor. They, too, had golden irises. I stepped towards Tevildo, more than a little trepidatious. He stared at me like some skittish animal, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet, then finally spoke.  
“No, he didn’t. I was just going to dispose of a failed project,” he whispered, and I had to strain to hear his words.  
“Here?”  
“The only thing that can destroy it is my fire, but I enchanted it to be immune to me, so I gave the dragons some of my power.” He backed away from me slowly as he spoke, still tense, eyes fixed on the only escape route from the room behind me. I treaded cautiously towards him again, and he attempted to back away, but he was pressed against the wall now.  
“You’re not carrying anything that’s made out of metal.”  
“I am. You just can’t see it.”  
“Can I? See it, I mean?” If that was genuinely his reason for being here, and he hadn’t sounded like he was lying, then I had no clue why he would be afraid. I swallowed back a growl of annoyance. He had said that he would never be scared of me, but now he evidently was. Which, to be honest, I had suspected would happen, but certainly not this soon; no, this was something else. He whimpered.  
“It’s horrifying- you don’t want to see it, trust me. There’s a reason Aulë said-” His eyes widened, and he stopped speaking, evidently mentioning Aulë had not been in his intentions. That meant he was well and truly distressed, because normally he would never have said something he didn’t intend to. He slid down the wall until he was sitting on the floor, eyes downcast, biting his lip. I crouched down too, until I was at eye level with him.  
“I do. Especially if Aulë didn’t like it.” He tilted his head up and to the side, eyeing me as though he were analyzing everything he knew about me. It made me a little uncomfortable, and I shifted to escape his burning gaze. Whatever it was, I seemed to pass the test, because he held his arm out for me to inspect. He was shivering, and not from the cold, but his eyes were bright. I watched, carefully, morbidly, as he dug his nails under his own skin and peeled it away. No- not peeled. Opened. It was some kind of lid, one with hinges, and he lifted it up. Then, he showed me the inside of his forearm. Metal. Golden metal formed into gears, some smaller than the tip of my finger, a metal bone running through the middle of it all, metallic strings and pulleys arranged in masterfully eloquent shapes. There was some red tissue left, attached to the pulleys, and yet it didn’t look out of place at all, more like the metal systems had been built around it. I swallowed, reaching out to grab his wrist and pull his arm closer so that I could inspect it better.  
“Is… is it like this, all inside you?” I asked, a shiver in my voice, and he gave a small, hesitant nod. “When did you do this?”   
“After I heard Aulë and Yavanna talking about me. That’s what I did with the hammer, what you would have seen had you continued watching.” He still refused to meet my gaze. I studied the strange, unorthodox mechanisms in his arm, enraptured by the crawling mass of mechanics, by the gently growling whine of the gears. Organic matter and metal, so seamlessly blended together that I could hardly tell where one began and the other ended. My initial reaction was disgust, yet I found I could not pull my eyes away from his arm. And the more I looked, the more the metal sprang to life, lifeless no more, but ticking and purring with movement, with emotions of its own. I poked one of the gears gently, Tevildo recoiling at the motion, and it was warm and full of energy under my touch.   
“This is, rather… horrifying.” I admitted eventually, my tone quietly gentle. Tevildo’s eyes were fixed stubbornly downwards, and he closed them now, attempting to pull his arm away from me. I held on. “But then again,” I murmured, and Tevildo’s eyes flickered oh so slowly up to meet mine. “Then again, I have always been… captivated, by horrifying things. There is something so enticing about things that seem unnatural. Perhaps it is the mystery of it. Or perhaps it is simply that I have rather… strange, tastes.” I breathed the words slowly, releasing Tevildo’s arm. He drew it back, eyes fixed on me. I could see his pupils dilate, his blood orange irises filled with strings of pale flame curling around a black hole that widened in order to suck in more light. The blood on his face accented his features in a peculiar way, the gold of his freckles shimmering in the dancing light produced by Glauring’s amber scales. I could see a droplet of fresh blood on his lip from where he had bitten it too hard, the tiny golden gears painted in his irises, almost invisible against their fiery background, the light glinting off of the golden ring in his lip. Now that I was this close, in the uninterrupted silence of the room, I could hear the sound of his fana. It wasn’t a steady th-thump, th-thump as mine was, or the beat of the wind in the trees as my brother’s was, but a cautious clicking. If I listened closely enough, I could just about make out the soft whirring and clicking of hundreds of metallic parts moving in unison, underlying the ticking of his heart. Tik tok tik tok, it went. I reached out a hand and placed it, fingers splayed, on his chest.   
_Tik tok tik tok._  
I undid the golden buttons on his shirt, teasing the fabric away to reveal freckled skin and thin shoulders.  
_Tik tok tik tok._  
My fingers wandered across his chest, searching for the tell tale crevice where a flicker of metal would be visible. I found it, and dug my nails under it.  
_Tik tok tik tok._  
The lid slid open smoothly, with no sound, exposing the shine of the mechanisms in his chest.  
_Tik tok tik tok-_ The ticking had sped up. I could see his heart now. Several plates of metal, curved around each other, pulling on each other like magnets. They were free to expand and contract, and did so by sliding over each other. There was a small metronome, a pacemaker, wired to them. So that had created the ticking sound. I could see his lungs, too. They had been constructed in a similar way, with sheets of metal so thin I could almost see the tiny aluminum alveoli inside them. His diaphragm was still in place and I watched, mesmerized, as it pushed upwards when he exhaled, forcing the metal sheets to scrape over each other and contract to push the air within them outside. Then, when he inhaled, his diaphragm loosened, letting his lungs return to their full size and creating a vacuum for air to rush back in. The metal was almost alive, a creature in it's own right that twisted and whined in time with the ticking of the metronome, in time with the click of the gears that were his joints and muscles, in time with the beat of the metal that he had become a part of. A creature not dead, not lifeless, but roaring with energy, with the pulse of a dance that drew life from dead chemicals and barren landscapes. I closed the lid of his chest, leaving it slightly ajar so that I could still hear the scrape of metal against metal with his every breath. My fingers found their way towards his hair, entwining themselves within the hopefully glowing strands.  
"You," I murmured, tugging gently with my fingers in order to elicit a quiet gasp from him, "You, my precious, are a work of art." His eyes widened. I leaned in, tugging his head backwards into my hands, and bit softly at his lips. He hummed a few notes of my Discord in reply, stretching out his arms to wrap them around my neck, his gaze brimming with gratitude at my words. My left hand still rested on his chest, and I used this to press him downwards until he was laying on his back, hair spilling out around him like a halo, its warm light caressing the sharp lines of his face.  
“Just because it’s art, it doesn’t mean it’s good.” He said, his voice muted, and I watched the light flicker in strange shapes at the movement.  
“Perhaps I should have been clearer. This particular piece of art is very, very good. The best I’ve ever seen, in fact. One might even call it perfect.” I purred. He finally let himself relax at that, tilting his head to one side, disturbing the light that deepened his features further still. Part of his face was in shadow now, but I could still see his eye, a burning flame amidst the darkness. The dried blood on his cheek was flaking away, liquid that had once sustained life now a mark of tarnish upon an otherwise untainted face. He batted long, curled eyelashes at me, at last letting a smile play on his lips.  
“You’re going to be the death of me, one day. But I have a feeling it’s going to be entirely worth it.” Under the teasing quality of his voice, there was a tinge of sadness, yet he did not seem disheartened. I stilled; he had voiced my darkest worries, and written them off as if they were nothing. Perhaps they were. Perhaps they weren’t. We would find out, in time, but until then I had him in my arms and I might as well make the most of it. My hands slid down to his waist, holding him tight enough to bruise, and I leaned in to rest our foreheads together as we had done so often before. His skin was warm, so wonderfully warm against me. I felt almost as though I was pressed up against a metal statue that had been left in the sunlight too long. I wasn’t as cold now as I had been last time, but almost invisible clouds of steam still hissed into existence wherever I touched his bare skin. The gears in his eyes - which weren’t painted on after all - whirred, turning slowly to let his pupils expand and contract. Now that I knew what I was looking for, I could feel the solid metal under his skin, a reminder that he was not as small and delicate as he seemed. Our lips were almost touching now, steam billowing out from between us, blurring his features until he seemed like fire incarnate, an amorphous shape over which light darted in playful flicks. He smelled like blood, dirt, and canine; the smell of the forest, of leaves rustling in dark hollows, of the sickly scent of crushed pine needles. This threw me off, for some reason. I had never really paid attention to him like this, and in the back of my mind I had always thought he would smell like fire and burning wood, like ashes that itched the throat. He seemed to sense my confusion, because he smiled, and pulled me down through the wall of curling steam to meet his lips with mine. a moment I was aware only of the water vapor fluttering against me, rushing closer towards me with my every inward breath, condescing on my skin and soaking my clothes. Then the steamy haze cleared a little and I saw Tevildo clearly again. His eyes weren’t closed, but then again neither were mine. We stared, unmoving, at each other for a beat of his racing heart.  
_Tik tok tik tok. _  
The gears in his eyes spun slowly, his pupils fully dilated now so that I could see only the faintest fiery glow of his irises.  
_Tik tok tik tok._  
He blinked, once, up at me. His gaze beckoned me, the heat drawing me in, enticing in the same way the desire to stick your hand into a fire is.  
_Tik tok tik tok._  
He closed his eyes, hiding their fire from view, and tugged me closer still. I did the same, pinning him down onto the cold, stone floor, his head floating in the burning sea of his hair, waves of flame that lapped at his skin and heated the metal under it until he was too hot for mortal hands to touch. He tipped his head back, cautiously, almost, and I would have had to crawl forwards on top of him to reach his lips had I not had the height advantage. Somehow, the thought at the forefront of my mind was that he at least didn’t taste like the forest too. He tasted of fiery honey, a dripping sugary mess that overpowered my senses, intoxicating me with its sweetness, yet also burnt my tongue, searing my flesh and finally, finally melting away the ice of my ëalar into a puddle of strangely sappy emotions that I wasn’t quite ready to dive into yet. His hands let go of my hair, trailing downwards, and he placed his thumbs under my jaw, efficiently pulling me away. I frowned, not needing to ask the question for him to understand it. He smiled.  
_“Your eyes have turned hazel.” _His voice thumped pleasantly on the inside of my skull. I let go of his waist with one hand, touching a claw just under my eye curiously. _“It’s a nice color. It suits you.”_ He said simply. I twitched the corner of my mouth upwards in a grin.  
_“Glad to hear it.”_ I replied, because there were a million other things I wanted to say, none of which could be expressed with words. So instead I would just have to show him. Our lips met again, my tongue hungry for his sweetness, for the warm honey that simmered in his words and the fragile echoes of trust that he placed in my hands, knowing I would do my best to keep them safe. Only once before in my life had I wished this hard that my best would be good enough, against all odds. I got up onto my knees, forcing him to reach upwards to continue kissing me, hauling himself up with his hands pressed flat against the cold stone of the floor. I felt his body tense with the effort against me, the clicking of gears sounding almost strained. The ticking of his heart had grown more frantic too, and I could feel each steady yet wild pulse through my skin. He rocked forwards until he was leaning his full weight against me, not wishing to work to remain upright, tilting my head downwards with the motion. The sickly sweetness of his lips was almost too much now, the taste of pure flame burning my nerves until I felt shaken and ready to drop onto the floor. So I did. I hit the ground with a sharp spike of pain against my back, but all thoughts of that were immediately banished from my mind when Tevildo eased himself on top of me in order to reach my mouth, his legs straddling my waist. There was fresh blood on his lips, a reminder that my teeth were sharper than I had originally thought, and when he kissed me again the taste of iron flooded my mouth, a blissfully short relief for my frayed senses. Soon, however, I had swallowed down the remains of blood in my mouth, and his fire clawed at me again, but this time I found myself concentrating on the warmth that spread teasingly through my stomach and the euphoria that came with the shelter of warmth. It created a pleasant buzz in the back of my mind, loosening my tongue, which I now poked inside his mouth, grinning at his surprised mewl. I was close to Glauring’s huge leg, so I used that to push myself up, throwing Tevildo back underneath me where he belonged. His head rolled to the side, eyes glittering lazily up at me, an expression that distinctly spoke of _come and get it_ lining his features. He seemed relaxed, but my hand rested on his skin, and I could feel his rapid heartbeat.  
_Tik tok tik tok._  
I tapped out a rhythm on his chest, the tips of my fingers tracing the crack through which the ticking emanated. When I tilted my gaze upwards to meet them, there was a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. His hand snaked down to grab my wrist, holding onto it with a vice like grip, and I felt the heat of his ëalar increase until his fingers burned red marks on my skin. His heart was ticking erratically now. He tugged at my arm, inviting me to come closer. I did so, nestling my elbows on either side of his neck. His hair was glowing red hot and white; the color of a dangerously bright spark close to bursting into an inferno. The flames weren't just in his hair, they wreathed and twisted around his body, burning the remainder of his clothes away and scorching the ground. As if in reply, I let go of all the potential energy trapped inside me, freezing cold sparks leaping in fleeting flashes across me, giving off the impression that there were cracks in my skin through which you could see the true radiation of my ëalar. Tevildo shifted under me, whimpering, and I realized that this ice could not be very good for him. He was entirely alight with flames by this point. Streams of lava curled leisurely down his legs, and when I touched him he felt soft and pliable, made not of skin and flesh but of molten metal. On a strange whim, I dug my nails into his side, his half melted form giving way easily. He exhaled sharply, arching away from the pain, eyes rolling back in his head. Soon my fingers brushed hard metal. I pulled my hand away, new liquid metal flowing in to fill the indentation I had made in his side. So he had been correct about the mechanisms being immune to his own power. Not that I had ever doubted him in the first place. He looked to be in pain, though, teeth gritted and legs curled up against his chest, and I remembered that my hand had been at absolute zero, temperature-wise. I hummed a few notes of his modified Song in an attempt to soothe him, stroking his ëalar reassuringly with the familiar beat. The effect was immediate. He slumped down against the wall, sending ash and burnt dust billowing in a wave of darkness around him, and to my ecstasy hummed the notes of my Discord back. I melted towards him, singing in reply, and splayed my hands across his chest. He faltered in his response, throwing his head back in the pain of my cold but an iron resolve still shining brightly in his eyes. I sang again, and this time he joined me, the thrum of our ëalar rising in time to the pulse of his fana, in tune with mine.  
_Tik tok tik tok._  
The light energy given off by the flames coiling about him flickered to the same beat. The thought that had haunted me since I had met him arose in my mind, and this time I knew it would not relinquish its hold on me. How long would he stay, before I drove him away? I braced one hand against the flowing metal of his chest, easing the cold radiating from it for a moment, and with the other I tilted his head forward so that he was level with me. I asked him the question through the rising and falling melody of our Song. I had asked him before, but he had been half asleep, and now I did not know what his true answer would be. What I certainly didn't expect, however, was for him pull me down until I was laying flush against him, my cold darkness biting at his fire until it danced uncertainly, almost giving in to the shadows. Steam billowed out from between us in thick blankets. I could barely see, but for Tevildo's terrible, beautiful gaze cutting through the mirage of strange, smoky shapes. Gears whirring in strange motions, pupils dilated with adoration, all seeing, all knowing. Somewhere deep inside me I was certain that the world would someday learn to fear those eyes.  
_"Why don't you find out?"_ He sang, and I replied in affirmative, letting the melody of his music spin dizzyingly through my ëalar. There was nothing left, only this rhythm, this Song, this ticking metronome in his chest and the thump of my bitterly chilly breaths against his molten skin that dictated the beat of our dance. I let him feel the raw edge of my power, a blade of radiation that cut through everything and anything, pools of antimatter dripping onto the ground, freezing all it touched into pure energy, forever trapped in fractals of ice that melted when Tevildo came too close, releasing the energy and wreaking havoc. In turn, he threw his head back and grinned almost maniacally through it all, no matter how much I scratched away the liquid metal of his form and reduced it to hissing droplets of gold and titanium scattered across the floor, slowly tearing him apart enough to reveal the untainted metal of his glorious creation underneath. The Song roared into an upsurge, the metronome frantic, each individual beat slurring into each other, near indistinguishable from the beast of the melody winding its webs around both our ëalar. Tevildo's voice rose in a hoarse scream, accompanied by mine exploding with an unbidden burst of heat and energy that had been trapped inside me for so long, for fear of what those around me might say upon seeing such uncontrolled power, and then the electricity crackled and finally arced, and everything was restored to balance one more. There was silence, broken only by both our frenzied panting and the ticking of the beat.  
_Tik tok tik tok._  
Above us, Glauring whined, no doubt wanting to be fed. Tevildo sighed below me, now more of a tangled mess of red hair, flushed limbs, and overstimulated nerves than a proper, functioning being. Though I really couldn't say much, because I was very much the same; minus the hair, of course. Glauring whined again, this time leaning down to nudge me with his nose. I groaned, swatting him away, attempting to gather enough energy to tell him to fuck off but failing miserably. Tevildo's heart rate had calmed down by now, his breaths at regular intervals and his eyes closed, head tipped to one side. He must have fallen asleep. I had a very strong urge to do the same, burying my head in the crook of his neck to block out Glauring's incessant neediness. It was... mostly, successful. Tevildo felt like a living hot water bottle, the ticking in his chest consuming my senses until I was drifting in a tranquil void. I breathed out slowly, watching the strands of his hair flutter at the motion. This was nice. My eyelids felt heavy, so I closed them, cutting off my need for sight. Instead, the world reduced to the tickle of steam condensing on my skin, to the warm fire I was laying next to, to his hazy breaths and the gentle clicking and whirring of his ever changing creation. I found myself slowly drifting off, lulled by the warm, familiar environment, until my other senses cut off too and the comfortable darkness consumed me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	22. Lava

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something sweet~

Something warm and scaly was pawing at me. I opened my eyes, blinking away the daze of sleep. For a moment I couldn’t see anything more than blurry shapes and lights, a welcome barrier between me and the world. I lay unmoving, blinking slowly in a vague and reluctant attempt to clear my mind. Eventually my eyes managed to focus, and the shapes turned into a tall ceiling and a golden dragon’s snout poking at me. I turned my head, wincing at the squeal of overworked gears that had not been oiled sufficiently for this level of exertion. Glauring, sensing that I was finally awake, let out a huff of joy. I ignored him, twisting my torso sideways to nudge at Melkor instead. He was, as I had recently found out, a distinctly heavy sleeper. I could probably have woken him by burning his arm or something, but the part of me that was still incredibly grateful for his words last night would have felt guilty, so I squirmed out of his grasp instead, clambering on top of him to reach his face. I kissed his forehead, perhaps a little harsher than necessary, then, when he didn’t react, poked him with a sharp nail. He opened one eye, still the inviting, warm hazel of last night, then pushed me off of him, muttering something that sounded slightly like go away. Opting for a more annoying strategy this time, I started wailing quietly right against his ear. He pushed me away again, hissing profanities under his breath. I sighed, attempting to get up, but the oil on the gears in my spine must have completely dissipated by now in a combination of heat and overuse, because there was a terrible screeching noise, reminiscent of fingernails across a blackboard, and the truly abhorrent sound of metal scraping against metal. Melkor immediately shot straight up as though he had been electrocuted.  
“What was that and how can I kill it?” He hissed through gritted teeth. I had the grace to look sheepish.  
“Sorry.”  
“That was you?”  
“The gears need oil.” He blinked dubiously, then recollection shone in his eyes and he let himself fall backwards against the wall.  
“Oh. What kind of oil?”  
“Synthetic gear oil made up of polyalphaolefins, preferably, but if you can’t find that any kind will do ok,” I replied, chuckling at his expression of mild confusion.  
“We can get to that later, then. Until then, for the love of Eru please don’t move too much.” I yawned, nodding. I was still tired, but it was a good, comfortable kind of tiredness that made me want to curl up somewhere warm and safe and listen to the sound of my own breathing. Melkor wasn’t exactly warm, but Glauring was, now that he had my power in him, so I crawled over to the dragon with a whine of metallic parts and nestled against his side. Melkor shot me a look of utter hurt and betrayal.  
“It’s not my fault you have the body temperature of a dead fish,” I mewled, burying myself closer against Glauring’s fire filled belly. The dragon wrapped his long, sinuous tail around me, and I sighed in delight at the heat radiating from his scales.  
“Well Glauring technically shouldn’t be much better, but with whatever voodoo shit you did to him he’s become one of you weird fire spirits now,” Melkor retorted, then his gaze turned to one of curiosity instead. “How did you do that, by the way? Can he summon explosions now?” I snorted. Of course the first thing Melkor wanted to know was whether he could use this to somehow blow something up. I yawned again, my eyelids drooping in contentedness.  
“I don’t know. He should have the same powers I do, because all I did was take a small portion of my ëalar and stitched it together with all of theirs.”  
“Why all of them? Wouldn’t you only need one to destroy… yea?”  
“That was an accident. I gave too much power and everything in the room was affected.” Melkor paused to consider this for a moment, then his eyes alighted with an idea.  
“So, technically, if there had been a rat in the room we would now have a fire breathing rat?” I sighed, unable to contain my subtle smile.  
“Come here, you ass.” He shot me a toothy grin, and bounded over Glauring’s tail to snuggle up beside me. His long, blue tongue curled out of his mouth to lick me on the cheek. The blood on my face, as well as the dirt in my hair, had been burnt away into ashes last night, for which I was extremely grateful. Despite being rather occupied with Melkor, a large part of my mind had still been stressing over my filthy state, but now all tarnishes on my skin had been burnt away and I felt clean once more. Not that I still wouldn’t love to douse myself in water and wash the perspiration and condensed steam from my body, but alas it would have to wait. Melkor had stopped licking me affectionately, and was now busy with running his hands over Glauring’s heated scales, head tilted in curiosity and reverence. Frustrated with his lack of attention directed at me, I pressed my knuckles against his arm, and leaned in to nip his neck. He started, momentarily too infatuated with Glauring’s newfound power to remember that I was an attention whore who refused to leave him alone for longer than five seconds.  
“What?”  
“I didn’t invite you to cuddle with me so you could replace me with a dragon.”  
“See how it feels now?” He smirked, and I batted at him with my hand.  
“Shut up,” I whimpered, wondering how anyone could be this evil. Melkor still refused to divert his attention from Glauring, so I resorted to desperate measures, arching my back in order to produce that ear wrenching screeching sound again. Melkor covered his ears with his hands, a panicked look in his gorgeous chestnut eyes. I let my muscles relax again, shooting him a triumphant look.  
“What do you want from me?” He pouted, letting his hands drop down to my hips once he was certain that the threat of having his eardrums torn was over.  
“A warm bath, something to brush my hair with, formal clothing- no, don’t look at me like that, I do have to wear clothes- and a lot of motor oil. Oh, and if you have some laying around I do need some immunosuppressive drugs too, please.” His look was one of utter loathing, but he slid one arm under my knees and another pressed against my back, and picked me up anyway, much to my feigned chagrin at being carried around like a doll. I actually did kind of enjoy not having to do anything.  
“You’re so needy,” he muttered, but I pressed a kiss to his collarbone and he seemed satisfied with that. His grip on me tightened momentarily, and I felt him tense, and suddenly space bent around us, my atoms shoved into a place where atoms should not be, and we were sitting in front of a pool of lava. I trembled, feeling strangely cold, and a sense of nausea curled unpleasantly in my stomach.  
“I think I’m going to wretch.” I whispered, voice pale. Melkor made a face.  
“Please don’t.”  
“Since when could you do that, anyway?”  
“What, bend space? I can’t do it… well, I guess I just did, but I can’t do it easily and I had to steal some of your power as well since just mine isn’t sufficient. Sorry ‘bout that.” I took deep breaths, my eyes fluttering closed, until I no longer felt as though I was about to hurl.  
“It’s fine. Thanks,” I said, eyeing the bubbling magma beside us. “Is that the bath I asked for?”  
“Yup,” Melkor replied with a grin, and I barely had time to register what that self assured expression meant before his hands were at my back, and he was pushing me in. The heat softened the mechanics inside me, so that when I swam to the side, glaring at Melkor, there were no horrendous screeching noises. On one hand, it meant I could move about freely without the mild jolts of pain, but on the other hand, it also meant that I had lost my only leverage over Melkor. Well, maybe not only leverage. I pushed myself up onto the rocky bank of the pool until I was face to face with him, droplets of magma dripping from my eyelashes and hair, turning to stone in mid air then melting back to liquid when they hit the main body of the pool. As expected, he leaned forward to kiss me, and, using that to my advantage, I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and pulled him in with me. There was a resounding splash of magma, and we were both under the surface, surrounded by glowing liquid. I couldn’t see anything other than fire, despite the fact that I knew Melkor had to be right next to be and I could feel my arms still around him. For a moment, my ticking heart beat rang in my ears, and I started to panic, bursts of bubbles streaming out of my mouth and obscuring my vision even further, but then Melkor’s hand cupped my face and he pulled me up until my head was out of the magma. I was immediately met with his smug expression.  
“Serves you right for trying to drown me.” He retorted, and dived back down when I splashed a handful of liquid at him. I was alone in the warm glow of molten stone, my legs paddling languidly to keep myself afloat. Deciding that it wasn’t worth the effort, I concentrated on lowering the density of my body so that I could float. It wasn’t hard, and soon I was laying on a bed of magma. Of course, however, Eru forbid Melkor grant me a moment’s worth of peace, because I felt a hand under the surface of magma grab my ankle and almost jumped ten feet into the air. The hand drew away, and was replaced by a head resting on my shoulder. “Hey there,” Melkor purred. The liquid just around him gave way to solid due to his lack of body heat sucking away the energy from his surroundings. I shivered, partly because of his icicle lips against my skin and partly due to the unbidden happiness unfurling its petals in my stomach in the same way that had affected me when I had first set eyes on the dragons Melkor had brought to life in my name. I pushed my shoulders back, easing his head away from me, and let myself float gently to the dark, rocky bank of the pool. Once there, I pushed myself up into a sitting position on the heated stone, the magma lapping at my waist and its glow filling the hollows of my fana with soft shadows.  
"Now, about that oil," I said running my long fingers through my hair, gathering it to fall in one tousled, flaming wave down my shoulder. While rebuilding my hands, I had given my joints increased mobility than before, resulting in the ability to bend my fingers in rather contorted and strange ways. It was probably the part of my creation I was the most proud of, second only to all the internal organ functionings. Melkor was watching me study my own hands intently, his gaze not freezing as it had been before, but instead sending the roots of that euphoric plant called happiness curling in my chest and it's leaves once more pressing against my ribcage. I had learned to deal with it without bursting into tears by this point, partially because I had physically removed my tear ducts anyway, but it still weakened my limbs as though begging me to stride into Melkor's arms, and forced the corners of my mouth to twitch upwards no matter how hard I tried to prevent it.  
"I can go attempt to find some. But I don't think we have polyanhuwjd oil."  
"What?"  
"The special kind you mentioned."  
"Gear oil… made from polyalphaolefins?"  
"Yea, that. Gear oil. I know for certain that we have vegetable oil though-" I fixed him with a glare, my voice dangerously low.  
"_Vegetable oil?_" I hissed. He swam over to me, ducking his head under the liquid and resurfacing between my legs to rest his chin on my knee, his grin that of a predator.  
"Yup. Would that work?" His eyes, wide pools of burnt sienna flecked with caramel, gazed up at me appraisingly. I stroked his hair, the black strands slipping through my hands with an almost mistlike quality, as though I was dipping my fingers into a black hole only for them to get lost in the darkness.  
“In theory, it would.”  
“But?”  
“But it’s _vegetable oil._ The stuff that you cook with. It’s disgusting.” Disgust was one emotion I had very little trouble discerning. It made my nose wrinkle in its mildest form, and sent bile racing up my throat in the worst case. Melkor shot me a mischievous look, and licked my leg with a long, wet tongue. I prodded him in the chest with my knee, sighing in resignation. “Fine, you can bring vegetable oil.” He pushed himself up, the heels of his hands digging into my legs, and licked my cheek.  
“Great! And if worst comes to worst I can always lick it off of you.”  
“I am going to pretend I didn’t hear that.” I said, gritting my teeth and purposefully lowering my gaze, my face feeling uncharastically warm. He pulled away from me, letting himself flop back into the magma.  
“I’ll go get it then. Didn't you also want a drug? I mean I’d be all for it, but I don’t know if this is the right-”  
“Not that kinda drug. Medicine. I can get it later, though, don’t worry about it.”  
“Okay,” he purred, and let his corporeal form melt into the shadows, leaving me to watch the steam coil off of the surface of the magma in silence. The Valar would be attacking this evening. I should probably go back to them, or all our planning would have been futile. I bit my lip, lacing my fingers together as I was wont to do sometimes. The thought of seeing Aulë again made me feel… well, I wasn’t too sure. Not warm. Cold. The kind that came not from external sources, but from the inside. Like my heart had dropped down to my stomach, and my skin crawled with infinitesimal, invisible insects. I stared at the magma. A bubble had formed on the surface, and it burst now, spraying me with tiny droplets. I doubted that, with the battle drawing ever nearer, Aulë would have the time to attempt to fix me. And when he did have the time, I would be long gone already. I drew my legs up out of the fiery yet solid liquid, resting my head on my knees. I had never really thought about the fact that I was going to leave Aulë forever. How would he react? What about Eönwë? And Yavanna? The thought of upsetting Yavanna, who had been nothing but sweet to me every time I had met her, brought on the stifling cold again. Perhaps it would have been a better plan, though selfish of me, to sneak away in the night and never have to see their reactions. But it was too late now. I had pledged to follow Melkor into the Void if need be, down whatever dark paths he chose to traverse. I would not give that pledge up for the world, yet there was still a part of me, the idealist, I supposed, that wished I could have everything. That there could be a perfect world where I could have both the people who had raised me and Melkor. I tipped my head to the side, my hair dripping down, the strands caressing the side of my face and its tips grazing the surface of the magma. A perfect world. I had never dared seriously consider it before, though the idea had danced at the edge of my mind. A world where there was no waste, where everything was efficient and in its place, where there was a future laid out for all so that no one ever needed to experience the fear of uncertainty. I could achieve that. Melkor had shown me that my power was far greater than I had ever imagined. Enough, perhaps, with his help, to warp the entire world to my own design. The gears ticked under my skin. I had perfected my fana. Why not go further? The corners of my lips twitched upwards in a smile. The room seemed suddenly darker, accentuating the glowing fervour of my presence. I would have everything I had ever wanted. My eyes, drawing their gaze around me, searching, always searching, for imperfections that I would stop at nothing to fix, flickered brighter. Their stare was all-consuming, strangling everything I saw and bending it to my own unattainable ideals. I would have the love of both Aulë and Melkor; they were nothing like each other, and thus could coexist. I would fix the world, as I had fixed my fana, and no Child of Eru would dare withstand the enthralling, devouring gaze of my Eye that burned away all those who met it until nothing but perfection remained.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	23. Eonwe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone's favorite bird boy xux

_~Eönwë~_

Lord Aulë was distressed, and thus, by extent, so was Lord Manwë. I listened to the aggressive winds that blew around me, whipping my wild hair in all directions, attempting to discern how much my friend's absence had affected him. My Lord's Song was a crescendo of harsh notes, and I winced. Too much, it seemed. I could not hear the words passed between Lord Manwë and Aulë, as the Valar preferred to communicate through their ëalar with each other, but what I could hear was the low, dangerous thump of their Songs. It vibrated through me, attuning me to the same melody. Lord Manwë eventually floated out of the room, his claws emitting a gentle pattering sound on the wooden floor. He turned his head to look at me.  
"Eönwë," he sang eventually, an unusually harsh squeal accenting the notes, "Find the Maia we speak of." I bowed, chattering in compliance. His song quieted with the knowledge that I would keep my eyes out for my friend, and he drifted away, Lord Aulë following with a groan of rocky debris, leaving a trail of crushed dust behind him. They had greater matters to take care of. While the loss of one of Lord Aulë’s leading Maiar was certainly a blow, I agreed that they should not hinder the preparations, nor falter in their attack. The Valar must concentrate on this attack, and I would take care of Mairon so that they could do so with no further interruptions. I waited for the two Valar to leave completely, until the echoes of their unique music drifted along the corridor, barely discernible to even my sharp ears. Then, I hopped out of one of the open windows lining the corridor, my cloud like wings beating strongly against the updraft of Lord Manwë's winds. Flying in such a way always sent my Song soaring to sharp, high notes, each beat ringing clearly through my ëalar before being flung away by the rush of air streaming beside me. The atmosphere was cold and crisp, washed with blue overtones. It was a wide field of endless freedom to soar through, a pale azure sea through which I could twist and turn to my own melody, breaking free from the curve of space and time around a mass as large as Arda. In the far distance, my silvery eyes could discern Utumno, a looming shape that made the notes of my Song chitter and falter into a quieter sound to contrast with their previous elation. Between Valinor and Utumno, there lay a large plain of grassy nothingness. When a particularly powerful gust of wind blew across it, the grass rolled with the air, giving the ground the appearance of being something fluid, a sea that one could walk over. The solid ocean soon turned into a thick band of trees, their leaves obscuring most of the ground from sight. These eventually gave way to black rocks and icy pools; the warped power of the Dark Lord. I had no intentions of going that far, of course. It was an evil, lifeless land, ruled by one even more so, a place that wrapped its claws around you and dragged you into its depths where you would be suffocated by the shadows, bent and broken to the will of the Vala who was nothing like anyone I had ever seen before, who corrupted and hurt things for his own pleasure and satisfaction. I broke my gaze away from that morbid land, wondering if staring at it for much longer might encourage the darkness to strangle and destroy my ëalar. The thought was not a harmonic one. I spiralled over the grasslands, my Song stuttering at the mere thought of going further. Mairon would not be there, and if he was, then we would not be getting him back. My eyes scanned the ground, hoping for a glint of golden hair, or at the very least for footprints. There did not seem to be anything here. The strong beating of my Song quieted down, and I turned away, leaping into an air current that would carry me easily across the remainder of the fields, low enough that I could still spot the telltale signs of trampled dirt that someone had passed here. Three hours later, my wings and neck ached and the nerves in my eyes were tired from the constant strain, but for all my effort there was still no sign of Mairon. I shifted my gaze towards the forest, purposefully ignoring the shadow of Utumno beyond it. It was not a forest as I knew them; this one was dark with veils of greenery, a terrain reminiscent of the constant battle between Lady Yavanna and the Dark Lord. I drifted closer. My Song faltered, the notes now a soft twittering. I rocked in the air, knowing that I should go back. Mairon would not be here, anyway. Perhaps he had already gone home. Just as I was about to swoop away, something fiery flickered at the edge of my peripheral vision, a sharp contrast to the dull greens and browns of the forest. I paused, turning my head to view it better. Far beneath me, something with a distinctly golden glow was walking through the forest, the color only showing in faint glimpses from below the forest canopy. Steeling myself, I pulled my wings close against my back, letting myself drift downwards. I fluttered through an opening in the canopy, and landed next to the person, twigs and leaves crackling under my feet. I was immediately hit with the overpowering scent of nature, dirt mixed with musty leaves, tinged with the clear smell of dew. The person I had leaped down next to jumped in surprise at my intrusion, whirling around to face me. I instantly recognised those strangely distinctive red eyes, once such a pleasant green when he was younger, and the golden freckles dusted over otherwise flawless skin. It was Mairon. My Song rose to a frantic warbling at the blessed sight of him. I had fulfilled my orders and found my friend at last. He was seated on top of an old appearing wolf, his clothes torn and dirt muddying his features. The warbling of my Song died down when I spotted the remains of blood on his arm. His features had contorted at the sight of me. I could not hear his Song; he had blocked it from reaching my ears, as he often did, and I felt as though I was blind, unable to discern the strength of his melody or the speed of his beat. He had never shielded his Song from me before he had met the Dark Lord, had had no need for these strange expressions either. We had no need to hide ourselves behind such masks of flesh and skin in Valinor. I chirped softly, and he blinked, baring his teeth.  
“Eönwë. You were right,” He said. I could occasionally discern snippets of his Song from his voice, and now I believed that he sounded weary, a slow, thudding tune.  
“About what?”  
“The Dark Lord. He betrayed me, sent his followers to attack me. I barely escaped intact.” Now I could see there was a truth to his words; he moved stiffly, as though badly wounded, and there were the red marks of claws and teeth dragged viscously across his neck.  
“Why did you go to him in the first place? You should have listened to my warnings.”  
“I know that now. I had a… disagreement, with Lord Aulë, and the Dark Lord attempted to take advantage of that. I was foolish, but I realize that now. I apologize, Eönwë.” If he realized the travesty of his actions, then that was good enough for me. There were hesitations, missteps, in many peoples’ Songs, and Lord Manwë did always say that everyone could do wrong things, and that that did not make them a wrong person. I trilled in tune to the quickening melody of my Song, and Mairon seemed to at least recognise that beat, because he sang an equally fast and upbeat note in return. He clambered off of the wolf, kissing the top of its head and whispering something in its ear. Then, with one final pet, the creature loped away, shooting a look back at Mairon as it went. I stretched out a hand, and Mairon took it. His skin was like touching a furnace, just like all of Lord Aulë’s Maiar, though I suspected that Mairon had toned it down a little so I did not burn myself. I twitched my wings, tilting my head upwards to eye the opening in the thick canopy, and, bending my knees, sprung upwards, my wings whipping about me in a frantic attempt to support Mairon’s weight. Eventually, I managed to float us both into the open air, where Lord Manwë’s wind currents would bear the bulk of the strain. Mairon clung to my arm for dear life, clawing at my shoulder in an attempt to pull himself up. He managed to drag himself on top of me, much to my chagrin and the frenzied fluttering of my wings in an attempt to sustain us both throughout the awkward movement, but once he was settled on my back I had to admit that it was far less effort now to continue flying than before. Once we were well away from that ominous forest, and by extent the ever-present shadow of the Dark Lord, the melody of my Song returned to its previously high and bright tones, a chitter that I hummed along softly to during my more absentminded moments. Mairon was fiddling with my hair, and when I turned my head a hundred and eighty degrees backwards to face him, his eyes were glazed over, implying that he was lost in the rhythms of his own Song. I had never pegged Mairon as a type to self-listen, but then again he had changed much since I had last been close to him. Thinking of the dissonance between the Mairon in my head and the one flying with me right now sent a low, baritone note piercing through me. It was discordant with the rest of my Song, and thus I ignored it, refusing to believe the old Mairon was lost completely. I had found him now, in the physical world. Who said I couldn’t do it again in a less material light? Yes, I would rescue him! He didn’t have to change under the Dark Lord’s influence, not if I told him it would upset me. He was my friend; of course he would stop if I told him I didn’t like it! After all, no one really _had_ to change, not really; we could all remain the same forever, and everyone could be happy. Yes, such a peaceful world sounded perfect. That thought was a far more melodic one, and I continued the remainder of the flight with a spring in my movements.

I landed onto the balcony of Lord Manwë’s room, Mairon gripping my shoulders tight enough to make me wince. He leaped off of my back with the agility of some fey beast. I let my wings nestle into my back, rolling the joints from where they ached from flying for quite some time, while supporting a second person no less. I stepped forwards, and knocked on the ornate, sliver doors that led to Lord Manwë’s balcony. There was the tap of claws inside, and my Lord opened the door, one of his mighty eagles perched on his shoulder, it’s talons digging into the billowing, cloudy swirl of air that was Lord Manwë’s current form. I bowed, noticing that Mairon did no motion of the same sort. This did not harmonize well with the way a Maia’s Song was supposed to fit within a Vala’s Music and I tugged at Mairon’s sleeve to prompt him to follow my action. As if remembering his place, he ducked his head in a hasty gesture of respect, which appeared to be sufficient enough for Lord Manwë.  
“I see you have found him,” he said, his voice a soft breath of wind. I nodded.  
“Yes, my Lord. He was in the forest close to Utumno. He was attacked by-” Lord Manwë motioned for silence with a breeze that glued my mouth temporarily shut.  
“Good work, Eönwë. But, I believe that he can tell me what happened himself. Aulë did not find your disappearance rather symphonious, little one.” He turned to Mairon now, who shifted in the same way as I did when the notes of my Song faltered.  
“I was foolish, and the Dark Lord took advantage of that. I assure you that it will not occur again.” He muttered.  
“Foolish in what way?”  
“Lord Aulë and I had a disagreement. I wandered too far away, wondering if it was possible to join him, and was attacked by his soldiers. He must have found out of the information I had given you. I barely escaped, but I now realize that it was wrong of me to think I could change allegiances. I believe in the cause of the Valar, and I am sorry that it took such an event to make me realize that.” Lord Manwë appeared to have been expecting an answer of this sort, because he hummed a sweet tune in response.  
“You have learnt from your error, and that is all that matters. Now go, little one, for Aulë requires your assistance. I would recommend that you reconcile with him before this coming battle.” Mairon bowed again, this time properly, and flickered inside. I wished, not for the first time, that I could hear his Song. It was currently still concealed from me, and I was unable to suppress the hesitant, twittering melody that arose at this. Surely he had nothing to hide from me now? It was presumably simply a force of habit, to keep his ëalar hidden in this way. I could help him break it soon enough. My Lord adjusted his head so that his pale, luminescent eyes were fixed on me, drawing my attention back to him.  
“Eönwë. Your division requires their leader. I thank you for your assistance in bringing Mairon back, but you, too, may go now.” I nodded, my eyes lowered in reverence of Lord Manwë’s near overwhelming presence.  
“Thank you, my Lord,” I chirped, and let myself step backward off of the balcony, my wings flowing out from behind me to save me from the fall. I was certain that the Valar would emerge triumphant from this fight. After all; who would dare challenge the greatest powers in Arda?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not my fave chapter but it had to be written so :)

My Discord thrummed through the assembled Maiar. Each of their hearts beat in tune to the wild rhythm, uniting them under one command. I growled in satisfaction. Utumno’s armies were nothing to match those of the Valar, but they were still vast, a force that trampled the ground below them into dust, that mowed down any who dared stand in their way. It was glorious, what I had created here. Currently, Gothmog, the leader of the balrogs, was acting as my Lieutenant. His footsteps sounded behind me, and I turned, the reptilian tail of my monstrous form whipping wildly. My hunger for the blood to be shed was near overpowering, but strategy was important in this particular battle, and so I had to be content with waiting. Gothmog cleared his throat behind me.  
“The opposition has been sighted on the horizon in the south. Would you like me to send out the first divisions?” I was about to reply in the affirmative, when I remembered Tevildo’s advice. Oops. I had completely forgotten to take that into account while briefing the officers, but since they had to listen to me anyway, I suspected that I could get away with some last minute changes.  
“No. Are the machines ready? Bring those out first, start firing when they’re in range.” Gothmog blinked in surprise, but he had never been one to question orders, so he shrugged and nodded in compliance.  
“Whatever you say, boss. I’ll go tell the officers.” He swung around on his heel to leave, a trail of fiery sparks swirling behind him. His steps left blackened, sooty patches on the wooden floor that I wasn’t sure he could prevent if he tried. I made a mental note to not add any carpets in public places from now on. Technically, Gothmog and Tevildo were both fire spirits, but I would rather have Tevi as my second in command than Gothmog. Perhaps it was that Gothmog specialized more in brute force, similar to me, actually, than coming up with any kind of advanced strategy. Or maybe I was just a little biased. I finally turned away from the army, and leapt up the stairs at the back of the balcony, the razor edged talons of my feet digging scores into the wooden staircase with my every step. It seemed that it may not be a very good idea to have me go near any carpets, either. I wound my way up onto the parapets, inhaling the freezing scent of the wind that rushed about me. I could almost feel my brother’s voice in the air, whispering at me to simply surrender. But I couldn’t do that. They would have me chained, a mindless slave to the will of Eru as they were, ruled over by scraps of melodies from a long forgotten age. Why do that, when I could be free, free to swoop across the icy plains as I willed, unbound by the expectations of what Eru thought Music was supposed to sound like. I could make my own rules. I didn’t need them; they had made their opinion of me quite clear, and so I would be content to dwell alone, with only Tevildo and my Maiar at my side, until they left me too and I was left alone in the Void of my own emotions to do as I pleased. Somehow, that thought did not bring me as much satisfaction as I had convinced myself it should. My brother seemed to sense that he would not sway me with petty murmurs, because the breeze whistling in my ears died down. There was an almost eerie stillness in the air now, broken only by the steam floating up from the machines being prepared on the parapets below me. Then the silence was shattered by the cries and shouts of Maiar and the scrape of metal ringing through the air, and I relaxed. It was strange, being this tense at the simple notion of a fight. In an attempt to take my mind off of the future, I directed my gaze towards the southern horizon, trying to catch a glimpse of the Valar’s armies. What met my eyes was a force clad in gold and white armor, with six tall figures at the head. Tevildo had been right; not all the Valar were here. I stared at the leading Vala, Manwë. His warm blue gaze cut through the distance between us, staring me directly in the eyes. I sneered, contempt in my features, yet there was the uncomfortable feeling of sadness coiling in my stomach. We had grown up together. I did not want to fight my own brother. Eventually, he broke the connection, turning his head to say something I could not hear to Varda beside him. I scowled. If he would not join me, then he had brought this upon himself. It was not my fault if he preferred a padded cage of musical structure to the true felicity of freedom, not my fault if he had made the decision to leave me on my own to wallow in bitter darkness with no warmth to quell my fears. It was not my fault that he had chosen to die at my hands. I sat down on the parapet, curling my ragged, draconian wings around me. My attention had drifted from my brother now; I was looking for Tevildo. He was less visible, being small even compared to other Maiar, which meant that amidst the blur that came with the distance I could not spot him. That was not good; to grab the Valar’s attention away from the battle so that we could defeat them, I had to know where Tevildo was in the first place. Oh well, I would just have to wait until they got closer. By then, the machines would be in firing range, and they would finally understand that they were nothing compared to my might.  
It took the Valar quite a while to reach Utumno. I had, of course, gotten rather bored in that time, and been forced to resort to falling asleep. I jerked awake when Gothmog poked me with a claw.  
“My Lord, we are in firing range,” he said, struggling to hide his amusement. I frowned. Truth be told, I was not particularly sure how I had managed to let go of my anxiety enough to sleep, but I was glad I had, because now my head felt clearer and I had enough pent up energy to level a fortress. Ignoring Gothmog, I stared in the direction of the opposition again, desperately searching for a flash of red eyes. Damnit. I still couldn’t spot Tevildo; there were far too many people in one place. I closed my eyes, directing my mind towards his presence that constantly lingered at the edge of my ëalar instead. My thoughts were met with a barrier, one I knew from experience that I could break through with little effort, at the cost of a fraction of Tevildo’s sanity. I couldn’t risk that right now, and besides, he presumably had to shield his thoughts from the other Ainur so that they would not realize what we were planning. He would be fine. I simply had to wait until I could find him in the comforting chaos of the actual battlefield, that was all. Gothmog was still waiting patiently beside me. I waved a hand at him.  
“Tell them to fire, will you? We need to diminish their forces before sending out our own; they are too much for our mere soldiers to handle.” Gothmog nodded.  
“Oh and also, one of the officers- Langon, I believe he was called - wanted to know why we aren’t using the worms.” I paused, narrowing my eyes.  
“Worms?”  
“Y’know. The lizard things. People have taken to calling them worms.”  
“Oh.” Worms. They were calling my beautiful, terrifying beasts of terror, birthed from ice yet bathed in fire, worms. I kind of liked it. “They are not old enough to be fighting yet; it might be another age before they are fully grown.”  
“Aight, I’ll tell him that then. Good luck, boss.” He ducked his head respectfully, then made to plod away. I bounded after him.  
“Wait! Once we’ve expended all the firearms, we plan to attack. Tell the officers of that new plan too.”  
“Of course, my Lord.” He said, then he was gone. I sighed, narrowing my gaze in the direction of Manwë. They had brought out a battering ram. I was confident that Utumno could take it, but I watched with a sickening apprehension all the same. They swung the ram, a thick piece of wood capped with metal, backwards, then rushed forwards. I felt the boom of the blow in my feet, in the vibrations coursing through the very foundation of Utumno. I tensed for the next blow, but it didn’t come. The ram had split down the middle, the metallic cap shattered. Someone had sabotaged it. Not that it would have been necessary, of course, but still, it was the thought that counted. I smiled softly. Now it was our turn. The thunder of the machine when it hit the ground shook the very foundations of Utumno, and I would have fallen had I not spread my wings to steady myself. It was a simple idea, really- a casket of explosives with a string to light so that it would not explode immediately. The true genius of it was in the machinery to throw the casket far enough so that it would not damage Utumno. The forces of the Valar scurried around in panic around the enormous crater in their midst. Smoke poured from it, obscuring their vision, rendering them helpless for the next attack. Another machine of the same type was launched, and this time some of the Maiar attempted to scramble out of the way, but it was no use. I could not prevent a terrifying grin, all knife edged teeth and glittering eyes of ice, from forming on my face. They had wronged me, and so I would wrong them back. There was a vindictive pleasure in being so much more powerful than another creature that had wronged you, in beating back tyrants that claimed to be unbeatable. The next machine was launched, and this time I turned away, listening to their screams. I had screamed, too, screamed barely coherent words with which I had attempted to explain at least a fraction of the glorious world of emotion that the Valar were missing. They had not listened. They had ignored me, told me with vacant smiles and empty eyes to kindly fuck off. I would not stoop to their level- no, I would listen to every plea of pain they screeched in my direction. And I would revell in every second of it. With a flutter of my wings, a cloak of darkness enveloping my footsteps, I stepped back inside. They had left me in darkness with my emotions, expecting them to consume me, but I had wrestled that darkness and that sadness and become one with it. Now I was alone and so, so empty. I inhaled, eyes scintillating dangerously. I would fill this emptiness if it killed both me and those around me. Inside, my army chanted, drumming restlessly against the ground to the beat of my hollow promise. They were loyal. They loved me. I had never been loved before. I swept towards them, my every footstep ringing out loud and clear, until I was standing directly in front of them. Their drumming died down, silence reigning over the hall. Every eye was on me. They would not leave me as everyone else had. They would follow me down this dark path, and I would guide them to freedom. I opened my wings, drawing the hammer - Grond, as it would come to be named - that Tevildo had crafted for me.   
_“Let’s kick their asses!”_ I cried, in time to the now near overwhelming roar of my Discord. The army screamed in response, beating their weapons against the ground in a frenzied tattoo. The Music was a chaotic, disorderly, wild thing, and yet, full of all the more potential for it. Order could not exist without chaos, after all. I smiled. The Valar had stared mockingly into what had once been lifeless darkness, but now, they would find that the darkness stared back with eyes of burning ice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are much appreciated! <3


	25. War

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah battle scenes are a nightmare to write

I was pretty sure that Melkor had not spotted me yet, or maybe his opinion of me had somehow changed dramatically within the last twenty-four hours, because he had just fired one of my own machines at me. I fanned my cloak to get rid of the sparks, snorting in disbelief. This was one of my best cloaks, too. It was a deep black, embroidered with golden patterns around the hem. Half of said patterns were, however, now burnt to cinders. Curumo observed me with poorly concealed glee. He had been next to me, and my body had shielded him from the worst of the explosion, which he should have been thanking me for, but instead seemed content to gloat at the burn marks coating my previously pristine armor. I snapped my gaze towards him, hissing in an animalistic fashion that even a simpleton such as him would understand. He dropped his stare, muttering something under his breath. I ignored him, looking up at the towering fortress that was Utumno. A dark shadow lurked on the parapets, and I recognized Melkor just before he turned to walk away. He had not seen me, which meant that I was still in danger from the machines, but then again I was rather unrecognisable in full armor. The Maiar around me were staring at the huge crater left by the explosion, murmuring to each other in what I assumed was fear, their combined voices raising a buzz of commotion. One Maia yelled, pointing upwards, and I followed their gaze just in time to see another projectile racing towards us. I hissed, and flung myself to the side, curling up on the ground to protect myself from the detonation. This time it had landed farther away from me than before, and I was relatively unharmed. If only the same could be said for the Maiar that had been closer. The scent of charred flesh and burning blood drifted towards me, almost making me gag in disgust. It was as a physical thing, curling ominously around me, its claws caught in my skin and dragging me to the same fate as the bodies that lay before be, tearing me down for my treachery, down, down into nothingness- I suddenly felt sick, blinking rapidly to clear my mind from such thoughts. I knew perfectly well that I was following Melkor down into the Void, but as long as he was at my side, I did not care for the darkness. The smell of burnt bodies truly was an abhorrent thing, however, and I was once again reminded of my distaste for combat. I was a strategist, I worked behind the veil, not in the middle of this group of tasteless, brutish Maiar that had no willpower to do anything but whatever they were told. Aulë barked an order beside me, and several Maiar brought out the battering ram that they had gotten me and some other forge spirits to build for this moment. That had evidently been a big mistake, because the moment it’s tip was swung towards the wide doors of Utumno it shattered into pieces. It took considerable effort for me to hide the smirk that grew on my face, and I was grateful for the helmet that hid my expression. More projectiles were flung towards us, but by the fourth time, it seemed that Manwë had finally woken up to what was happening, because the projectile was slammed away from us by a wind that tore at me, sending me stumbling sideways under the dead weight of my armor. The projectile exploded close to Utumno, sending dust raining down on the dark stone, and the assembled Maiar crowed with delight. I did not join in. Manwë had realised that the machines were not enchanted against his power too late; the damage had already been done. His forces had been now diminished to about the same size as Melkor’s. A few of Manwë’s Maiar had flown up to the top of Utumno, looking for some other access point into the fortress, but they were shot down. It seemed that the battle was in deadlock before it had even begun. I was beginning to get bored of standing in the heat of the glaring sun in full armor, black armor nonetheless, that absorbed the sun’s heat and weighed heavy on my shoulders. Those around me evidently portrayed the same sentiment, shifting around and whispering to each other like a drove of humming bees. A clang, followed by a creaking sound, cut through their voices, driving them all to a sudden silence. Finally. The door to Utumno eased open, painfully slowly, to reveal a mass of shadow creatures and Maiar, all wearing twisted dark armor that glinted with the light of the sun, all thrumming and filled with momentous energy compared to the perfectly still force of the Valar. The two armies stared at each other for a beat. Battles were not all physical; they were the clash of two discordant Themes of Music, two different tunes that could not coexist and tore at each other until one drowned the other out and forced it to the ground. Now all the participants strained their ears to hear the two Themes, their breaths bated, waiting for the drop of the bass that would ring through the ground, chaining our ëalar to this fight and dragging the two armies together like opposite magnets. We listened. The beat dropped, the ground shuddering beneath our feet, yet not a single one of us tripped, instead leaping forwards with a surge of power, as one, almost, two great beasts lunging at each other with fury in their eyes. I stumbled, though. There was a dip in the ground, and my foot caught on it, my arms momentarily flailing to prevent myself from falling. And when we charged, I lagged behind, cursing under my breath, praying that they would not notice my dissonance with the rest of them. No, I was not at all in tune with their Music. My feet hit the ground to the same beat as those of the enemy. I was the weak spot in that mighty beast, the faltering note that brung the entire melody down. After all, a chain was only as strong as its weakest link. One shadow beast snarled at me, it’s eyes glowing with fury. I dodged it’s first lunge, almost tripping over my own feet in the process. Spotting my weakness, the thing bit at my feet. I kicked it away, landing a solid knock on its face, but this seemed to only enrage it further. It jumped on top of me, clawing my armor to shreds, its mouth frothing with wild frenzy. I did my best to ignore the reddish gold blood dripping into my eyes. _Remember your plan, you idiot_. A voice hissed in my head, and I listened my fingers fumbling to tear off my armor. Damn the fool that had told me to wear it in the first place. I threw off my helmet, taking the beast with it, its blackened teeth still gnawing at the metal, and let my cumbersome armor clink to the ground with the resounding noise of metal scraping against metal. The beast jerked up towards me at the sound. My ears twitched. Someone was behind me. I whirled around, already shifting into the form of a lithe wolf, to meet the Maia with her sword raised behind me. She choked on a startled cry, and a sprang directly at her throat, the metal lining the keratin of my claws shredding her armor to pieces like it was butter. I would have to have a talk with Melkor concerning the quality of this armor. The shadow beast took my distraction as an opportunity to jump, and I barely even registered it’s talons at my back until the blood dripped onto the ground and the first blow of pain hit. I bayed with rage, rolling onto the ground to shake the thing off. How dare this creature lay a single paw on this fana that I had labored for weeks to turn into a work of art. Flame, red hot and burning, spilled into my gaze, and I drew my lips backwards to reveal the glittering white of my teeth. The beast held its ground, rushing towards me. For a moment, I was frozen, but the beat of the Discord about me roared in my ears, and I obeyed its calling, closing my eyes and letting the Music guide my limbs. I turned into a mouse. The beast stopped, blinking in confusion, distracted enough for me to scurry underneath it. There, I let my fana burst upwards, my sharp nails and fangs clawing at the shadow of the beast, tearing it apart from the inside. It let out a horrified squeal, pure terror shooting through its eyes, and it was dead, melting apart into the shadows from whence it came. I twitched my tail, blood from the Maia I had killed staining my whiskers. The battlefield had been transformed into pure chaos, the very essence of Melkor that made him so powerful in a fight. In war, there was no order. It was an unpredictable, imperfect thing, and perhaps that was the reason I detested it so while Melkor adored it. The sharp tang of blood hung heavy in the air, forcing me to swallow down the bile that rose in my throat. I hated this. Oh, Eru, I hated this with every fibre of my being. Something sharp pierced my flank, and I spun around, amber eyes locking on the arrow now sticking out of me. The offending Maia grasped a bow tightly in their hand, their blue eyes determined. The splinters of that bow embedded themselves in my mouth and paws when I broke it, but I was beyond caring, listening only to the screaming pulse of Music in my ears, ignoring the sick scent and taste of blood dripping from my jaws. I did not know how long I fought, tumbling from one form into another with no effort, my fana just another block of metal that I would shape into whatever I wished. My eyes were tightly shut the entire time, pinpointing my enemies through the rhythm of their pulse and attacking with Melkor’s Discord ringing in my ears to replace my sight. I did not want to see the gory sight of the entrails of my peers spilling out from beneath my claws, I did not want to smell the iron tinged with scarlet liquid spilling through the air and wrapping around my throat with ragged tendrils. I wanted none of it, and so I ignored it, concentrating only on the breathless tattoo of the Music and the thump of my paws against the hard ground, raising dust that choked me until I could no longer smell the tang of blood through the dust caught between the metal plates of my lungs as they struggled to move. I sprinted in a maddened haze across the battlefield, tearing at any who stood in my way, not caring if they were one of the Valar’s people or Melkor’s. What felt like hours later, when my very bones ached to the core and my senses were blurred from the lack of air, I felt something in the beat of the Music that guided me change. I opened my eyes, ignoring the black spots flickering in my vision. Melkor stood in front of me, slowly backing away at the frenzied look in my eyes. There was a ragged gash across his cheek, but he seemed otherwise unharmed.  
“Why did you let someone hurt you?” I finally asked, the oxygen in my lungs feeling insufficient for the action. My tongue was dry in my mouth, my speech slurred.  
“That was you. Literally five seconds ago.”  
“Oh,” I said, feeling faint and a little dizzy. “Sorry. I don’t like war.”  
“That’s strange, considering how you were tearing up everyone in your way just now,” he replied with a grin that displayed the sprawling, blood-stained fangs in his mouth. I turned away from him, seeing the battle-field properly for the first time. All the Valar were throwing their power at Utumno, most of their Maiar gathered around them to defend them, while Melkor’s forces did their best to prevent them.  
“Why aren’t they going after you?” I asked, tipping my head back towards Melkor. He shrugged.  
“They don’t know I’m here yet. Also, they seem to be dangerously close to busting my fortress, so maybe it’s time to do that.” We had to almost shout to be heard over the lingering cloud of metal against metal and sounds of death that hung over the plain, and the strain was painful on my already suffering throat. Had the Valar ever taught how to actually deal with battles in those training sessions of theirs? If so, I really regretted not going. Melkor had begun to stride forwards in the direction of Manwë, and I slipped wearily into the form of a wolf again, padding after him with my head hung low. He glanced at me. “Shapeshifting in the middle of a fight? That’s pretty impressive. How did you do that?” I couldn’t speak in this form, not that I would have had the energy to do so even if my fana had been in its favored form, so I just shook my head and continued walking. Melkor seemed to get the hint, because he directed his attention back onto Manwë. He let his form sprawl out until he was covered in scales and horns, teeth tearing out of his skin and claws raking chasms in the earth. Now that grabbed the attention of the Valar. Manwë whirled around, again startling me with how similar his blue eyes were to Melkor, although his were filled with an infuriating innocence rather than anger. He stepped towards us, and wind rushed about us, knocking me to the floor. His presence was terrible, a mass of clawing air currents that no creature could withstand, certainly not a mere Maia such as me. Despite his rational demeanor, the sharp sting of crackling ozone snatched at me, so close to whipping the frail flame of my existence into nothingness. He was going to blow out my ëalar, he was- Oh Eru, what had I been thinking, going against the Lord of the Valar? I shuddered, whining in distress, and Melkor glanced down at me.  
“I’m more powerful than him,” he pointed out. I knew that, the rational part of my mind was telling me to stop being a craven fool, but this was the King of the beings I had been born to serve, and I could not prevent the tremors of terror from racing through me. Melkor grabbed me with one clawed hand by the scruff, and hauled me to my feet, hissing almost apologetically in my mind. _“This is no time for weakness! Goddamnit Tevi, you’re constantly showing off but the one time I actually need you to do it you suddenly turn into a whimpering fool?” _His pointed tone was enough to snap me out of the fear, and though I still shook and remained close by Melkor’s feet, I did not cower and flee before Lord Manwë. To my relief, he ignored me at first, taking me for just some wretched minion of his brother. Behind him, both armies had paused at the shift in attention of the Music, watching the meeting between the brothers intently. I realised by the time Manwë had melted into pure energy, a hurricane screaming about him, that I was caught between them. Ah, shit. Any Maiar that had been around us had rapidly scrambled away at the shift in Manwë’s attention, and I shivered at Melkor’s feet, wishing that I had done the same. Speaking of Melkor, his one-track mind appeared to have forgotten that I was even there, because he stepped towards his brother, stealing the energy of the other Vala’s storm and taking it for himself until the land about him was covered in frost and darkness, bleached of all warmth. I, too, felt his power tug at my ëalar, draining me for his own, leaving me weak and convulsing with bitterly cold cramps. The two circled one another like cats, Melkor growling, a cool aloofness gracing Manwë’s face. I had to dart about desperately to avoid being trampled. With each hit of my paws against the ground, pain shot up my leg, whether from the cramps or exhaustion I did not know. My entire body shook, pupils slitted, tail pressed between my legs and ears flattened. I felt faint. Melkor tensed, coiled up like a viper about to strike, darkness dripping from his maw, tail thrashing and wrenting craters in the crust of the earth. I was about to die, I was about to die in the most humiliating way; either by being stepped on by my own Vala, or collapsing with fear. But, just as he was about to lunge, Melkor’s reptilian voice rang in my ears, grating at my ëalar like shards of glass.  
_“Let’s give those bastards a show to remember, just like you planned, yes?”_ Oh thank Eru. He had not forgotten me. I nodded weakly, not that he noticed, and when the two beings leapt at each other, their Songs tearing each other apart and roaring in unbridled wrath, I watched, but did not flinch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	26. Welcome

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're reaching the end now !

I could not tell whether I felt devastated or furious. Seeing my brother always had a strange effect on me; the knowledge that we could have been something unique, could have created something beyond the limits of Music, was a sharp stab in my heart. That was the devastation aspect of it. Then there was the fury. It had been him that had forsaken me, him that belittled my designs, him that had torn me down and left me alone. Him and the One who above all was supposed to take care of His creations. They called Him Eru Iluvatar, the Father of All. All but me, that is. He had torn me away for daring to have hopes and dreams beyond those that He forced upon me, and I felt the hole in my ëalar bitterly, a gaping wound of cold and empty darkness, a jagged Void in my being. In the moments where the pain of these emotions snapped too harshly at my sanity, I told myself that it had been I that had banished Him from my heart, that I had no need of His care. Sometimes, I almost believed it. Manwë lunged at me, the brutal hiss of flaming oxygen blazing in his hands. I ducked away, but not before he could rip a rough tear in my fana. The pain fizzed through me, a welcome distraction from the pounding of my heart and the tears that rose behind my eyes. Something crimson and metallic dripped down the side of my face, staining my vision and flooding my mouth with thirst for more. I pounced on him, pinning him to the ground, my fingers - claws - wrenching open the ground beneath him. He slammed brutal winds against my torso, pushing me away while clumps of dirt still lay clenched in my fists. Each atom of air was like a knife, like splinters of steel scraping across me. My sight blurred, salty liquid threatening to spill from my eyes. That weak, whining part of me wanted them back. I wanted the ones who had been beside me when I had first opened my eyes back. But they had left me, and now I was left only with this aching despair. I drained the energy from my surroundings, but it was to my brother that I was supposed to give that energy, so that together we could use it to create and bring to life Eru’s designs. Without them, I did nothing but take, steal the life of those around me until I was surrounded by death and coldness, until I was alone but for the corpses of those that I should have helped build a world for. If only Manwë had not abandoned me. If only they had not left me, I would never have had to feel this horrible emptiness- but, no, that was the issue, wasn’t it? An Ainu was supposed to remain impartial. We were the judges of the earth, and thus when I dipped my feet into the endless pool of emotions and found myself drowning in it, that would not do. Never mind that I could accomplish things with those emotions that they could only dream of. Never mind that I could pour that feeling into my craft to create masterpieces of breathtaking value. It was twisted, and it was wrong, and so it should not exist. Manwë sent a flash of air hurtling towards me, a blow manifesting in thousands of pins and needles ripping at me. I howled, eyes burning, and threw myself at where his legs would have been had he not been a storm personified. He was knocked to the ground again, his veil of clouds dissipating, raising a desperate hand to catch my fist before it made contact with his side. I grabbed his wrist instead, leaning forwards to spit in his face.  
“_Foul creature_,” He twittered in response, the feathers in his hair whipping about in time to the lightning crackling above us. He was wrong. I was not wretched- I- I was- I choked back a sob, talons digging in his arm. Taking advantage of my weakness, he flung me back with a lash of nitrogen, and where I shredded at the ground with my hands so as not to be blown away, cracks of darkness sprang open. My eyes shone in icy rage, the nitrogen freezing into liquid when it touched them so that glacial droplets poured down my face, almost as tears. Foul creature, he called me. Alright then. So be it. I would be the foulest creature this world could offer, and then perhaps they would have an actual excuse to call me such insults. I spread my ragged, broken wings, the thin membrane stretching between the fingers casting a dark shadow before me. Liquid nitrogen poured from my eyes, freezing the earth below me into jagged cracks that shattered into pieces when I stepped on them. Manwë seemed to wither in the darkness, scrambling backwards, his eyes locked on mine. He was right. They were all right. So, it should have come as no surprise to my twin brother, my other half, when I charged at him with snarling fangs and claws bared. He warbled like some panicked, idiotic bird. Feathers snapped in my jaws, he pummeled me with winds and arcing bolts of lightning, but I absorbed all their power, corrupting in for myself. He cowered before me, and I wrapped my claws around his throat, shredding away his vocal cords so that he could do naught but thrash in desperation. Cool blood, blood so similar to mine, dripped down my arms, smearing my teeth in a scarlet haze where I had torn at his skin with fangs and a fury that could only belong to a monster. He begged for mercy, the same tears as me staining his cheeks, a sign that he could feel just as I could but simply chose not to because he was just that goddamn _better than me_. He had not granted me any forgiveness when I had done the same. I shook him by the throat like a wolf with its prey, satisfaction coursing through me when his begging died away, replaced by the terrified realisation that there would be no mercy for him. I had done exactly the same. Stared into his gaze, and saw my own eyes instead, blinking in terror that I was going to be left in darkness forever. There was the sound of clashing swords ringing in my ears, and I barely registered the blades wielded by Maiar burying themselves in my flesh in a futile attempt to defend their Lord. To save him from me. To save _me_ from me. Because in those eyes I was reflected back at myself. I was tearing at myself, and I was enjoying every second of it. What did that mean? I let my brother’s limp body fall to the floor, staining the earth with crimson that turned all it touched to rust. Something wet touched at my cheek, a gentle tongue licking away the blood on my face. Tevildo. Right. The plan; in my hatred, I had completely forgotten of it. I laid a hand on Manwë’s forehead, reversing the power of my claws and talons through sheer determination, just enough so that he was conscious but not enough that he could get up. His eyes sprang open, staring at me, not with anger as I had expected, but with pity. Pity at the lost potential we had had. There was a faint flicker of remorse within me that burned in my chest, but I quelled it away, wiping the liquid nitrogen from my eyes so that it stained my hands with frost. He had named me a monster. He claimed to speak the will of Eru. Who was I, to refuse the command of the All-Father? I stood up from my crouched position, batting away the insignificant Maiar that had thought they could hope to hurt me. Their swords, however, remained embedded in my side, blood melting out of the holes in my skin. None of those wounds could compare to the hole in my heart. Tears threatened to well up behind my eyes again, but Tevildo twined around my legs, blinking up at me with such warmth in his eyes that, if only for a moment, that Void within me was filled with flame. He burned away my tears, and, if I let him, he would burn away the ice in my ëalar too, but for now I had to retain my composure, so that would not do. The rest of the Valar, previously standing a respectful distance apart from their King’s private familial affairs, now threatened to attack me themselves. I might be able to take them, but it would drain me, and I could not risk such an endeavor right now. My faithful army would be enough to beat them back, anyway, but for that the best thing we could use was a distraction. I held out my hand, blood still dripping from my skin, and Tevildo melted back into his accustomed form, that of a design similar to the Children of Eru, fire haired, red eyed, all warmth and delightfully sharp edges. He was still tiny compared to me, though. He took my hand, an emotionless mask covering his face as it so often did. He would not have to wear that any longer if I had anything to say about it. His hand slid into mind, staining his elegant fingers with the blood of the Lord of those that he had once served. But he was mine now, at least before he left just like everyone else around me or was destroyed by my cancerous power draining his energy away. Tevildo’s hand shivered in my grip, the glow of his irises fainter after being caught between the two most powerful beings in Arda. It seemed that I had unwittingly drained and broken a part of his ëalar, just as I had feared, but his heartbeat still thrummed strongly in his chest and he appeared undeterred. I let myself wonder, if only for a second, if he might actually be able to withstand my power. But this train of thought was instantly cut off when Aulë’s voice rang over the battlefield.  
“Mairon! Watch out, he’s behind you!” Tevildo jumped back in surprise. I watched him exhale, running a hand through his bloodstained hair.  
“I know,” he called back. Aulë stepped towards him, dirt crumbling under his feet, eyes smouldering like molten coal. His body was a swirling mess of half melted materials, covered in cracks through which lava gathered in pools and dripped down to the floor. The earth around him seemed to rise up and claw at his feet, holding him rooted to the ground, until I could not tell where Arda ended and he began.  
“Get away!”  
“No.” Tevildo let a sneer creep into his voice. The ground beneath my feet shuddered, and I almost stumbled. Tevildo, however, was unaffected. Aulë stared at him, and I was glad that that lifeless, shimmeringly metallic face was not capable of expression, because the look of disdain I was certain would be on it might have actually killed Tevildo. Though his entire demeanor portrayed a guise of aloofness, when I brushed against his ëalar, he was terrified.  
“What are you saying? He’s going to kill you, get out of there!”  
“No. He’s not going to kill me.”  
“Are you delusional?” I watched this exchange with mild curiosity. The fight with Manwë had strained me, and I was unable to prevent a yawn, blinking when both Tevildo and Aulë turned to look at me. If I had to guess, I would say Aulë was probably angry, but then again I had a rather large difficulty in reading the Valar other than my brother, not the least because they didn’t actually have emotions to read. “What have you done to him?” Aulë’s voice grated as though two slabs of slate were being dragged excruciatingly across each other, a rough edged grinding sound that clicked in my ears. I shrugged.  
“Well I f-”  
“He didn’t do anything to me.” Tevildo cut in, panic flooding his ëalar when he realised what I had been about to say. Aulë ignored him, repeating his question instead.  
“_What did you do to him_?”  
“Nothing. Well, except chaining him to my will for all eternity and taking his fire for myself, of course.” I snickered. Yavanna chimed in with a soft rustle, almost making me jump. I hadn’t noticed her creeping behind Aulë.  
“Mairon, darling, come here.” Her words were like petals falling gently onto the ground, an irresistible fragrance of dewy, bright leaves. But I knew all too well the thorns concealed behind the facade of beautiful roses. Tevildo’s hand slid out of mine, sending droplets of blood spinning towards the ground, and he instinctively fluttered towards her. Aulë appeared to relax at that, boulders crumbling from his shoulders, only to be absorbed by the ground in that never ending cycle of rocks that kept the earth warm and ever changing. I liked change. It was a pity I had no power to inflict it in a controlled manner, and that that power had been granted to one who could never use it to its fullest extent. Oh well. I had to admit, then when things were uncontrolled, it also made them a lot more... _fun_. Yavanna wrapped merciful leaves around Tevildo, obscuring him from my view. I just watched with an exaggerated yawn. They should be grateful that I was even letting him say goodbye in the first place; I had not been granted that mercy when I had been thrown out of their midst to wander hallways of darkness, alone until the end of all days. But I left them alone for now; the longer I could draw this out for, the longer the army and the Valar gathered around us’s attention would be away from the battle, and the better the plan would work. Tevildo tore away from Yavanna’s grasp, blinking almost regretfully up at her.  
“I have to go with him. I’m sorry.”  
“You do realize he’s manipulating you, yes?” She said with a tilt of her head, sending gentle patterns of leaves cascading down the side of her face.  
“Hey! I’m right here!” I scowled, crossing my arms. They ignored me, much to my chagrin.  
“But I feel more harmonious here than with you,” Tevildo insisted.  
“He is manipulating your Song to be like that. He can do that- mess with your ëalar.” Of course, she would know. But had I actually been doing that? I wasn’t sure. Sometimes I did things without realizing, or without understanding their exact outcomes. I shifted uncomfortably.  
“That doesn’t change the fact that my Song is more harmonious.”  
“But it is fake.” Tevildo lowered his gaze, and for a moment fear shot through me that he was about to leave. I refused to let him, a primal instinct in me rebelling against the very idea of another person abandoning me. My claws uncurled softly.  
“Then I would rather dwell in a fake bliss than the coldness of reality.” Tevildo whispered, his voice barely louder than a breath. Before Yavanna could react, he stepped away. Aulë lunged for his arm, but I sprang forward, placing a taloned hand on the Vala’s chest, hissing through cracked and bloody lips filled with too many teeth.  
“Try to take him back, and I will do to your wife what I did with your King, while you watch, helpless. Then you’ll be next.” He froze. Yavanna twitched as if about to try to attack me, but I snarled, and she fell still. Behind me, Manwë coughed. He was still not strong enough to do anything, but at his movement his army snapped back to attention. Too late. Each of my brother’s Maiar suddenly found themselves with a blade at their throat. While they and their leaders had been distracted by Tevildo’s betrayal and my, admittedly unplanned, skirmish with Manwë, the remains of my army had crept up behind them. Aulë and Yavanna whirled around to stare at their imprisoned Maiar.  
“Don’t do this,” Yavanna said, the threat of thorns even now ripping through the petals. I laughed. Manwë chirped in fear behind me. I smiled, adrenaline flooding my senses in a blissful glee.  
“If I do end up doing it, for a while at least, you’ll be alone, won’t you? Unable to physically interact with your Maiar.” Yavanna exchanged a hesitant glance with her husband. I laughed, refusing to turn around to look at my brother behind me. I knew the horror and realization that would be in face, anyway. The dramatist within me wanted to have Tevildo give the order, but his ëalar was already damaged, the light in his eyes flickering in and out of existence. I pulled him closer to me, grinning at Aulë. Oh what joy there was, in seeing someone leave them, in the same way that people had left me. “And don’t worry about Mai over here. I promise you, having someone that appreciates his creations is actually a good thing, contrary to what you seem to believe.” A trace of blame slithered into my voice, just enough to hurt them, to force them into unnatural feelings of guilt that they had never had the joy of experiencing before.  
“I don’t-” Aulë’s form was shattering, lava leaking out of his ëalar. My words were as knives, dragging scores across him, fracturing his fana into fragments. He was interrupted, however.  
“Do it!” I howled, giggling in a sickened delight at the thought of the suffering they would endure. Let them see how much of a monster I was. Then, perhaps I would finally be able to sleep at night, knowing that their insults were well deserved and not stemming from an unfounded hatred of who I was. The Maiar did not cry or scream as their fanar were killed. Hundreds of bodies fell to the floor with a sound that vibrated through my feet and into my heart. Manwë behind me screeched, dragging himself forwards on fractured wings in a desperate attempt to claw at my ankles. I sent a thought pulsing into his mind, unable to control it.  
“_I hope you feel just as lonely as I did, brother. Now at least you have a reason to curse me._” He stopped at that, letting his head fall to the floor and shutting me out of his mind. Something had cracked between us. Good. I grabbed Tevildo’s wrist, dragging him against me, and held my claws to his throat.  
“Now that that’s out of the way, I would strongly advise that you leave. Or I’ll kill him too.” Tevildo made no move to get away, his eyes blank. My claws pressed closer to his neck, teasing out a droplet of blood that stained his skin. I could kill him. I could kill him right now; I would never have to worry about him leaving again. But then I would well and truly be alone, and the thought of that cold Void with the absence of his laughter and warm, fay flame was enough to send revulsion racing through me. Aulë walked over to Manwë. I let him, growling softly as a warning. He picked my brother up in arms of stone. Yavanna laid a hand on his shoulder, letting their power intermingle and strengthen each other. Yavanna’s eyes, such a warm green, like Tevildo’s before I had twisted him, met mine. A promise that we would talk once more coiled about her, and they were gone, the fabric of space bending and tearing under them. I let go of Tevildo. He collapsed onto the floor, shuddering, clawing at the ground like some wild animal, then was still. Aulë had Disowned him, broken the bond between a Vala and a Maia, and now he was truly chained to me and to me alone. We were surrounded by a plain of corpses, and beside each body, a loyal servant of mine, cloaked in darkness, waiting for my next command. They could wait a while longer. I crouched down next to Tevildo, tucking a strand of his pale, almost white hair behind his ear. He opened an eye, the gear outlining his contracting pupil spinning, a golden halo about a pit of darkness.  
“_Welcome to Utumno, Lieutenant Mairon._”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	27. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick little epilogue! Gosh, I wrote this fic last year, but it feels like forever ago. I hope you all enjoyed it!

“Melkor,” I said, the name a long forgotten tarnish on my ëalar. The world around me thudded with the pulse of my plants, a forever fluid, changing network of roots and interlacing branching twining across Arda, burrowing deep into the earth where my husband’s domain dwelt. The Dark Vala standing before me shifted. His mere presence was such that it would suck the energy out of his surroundings, consuming it and storing it for his own use. Perhaps that was why he had gone after one of Aulë’s Maiar; they were all burning hot, full of warm energy that he could drain from them and twist to his own devices. I reached towards him, every glowing seed in the ground about me shooting upwards, unfurling into majesty only to die once more. Such is the nature of life, and I am that nature, she who embodies the grappling claws of life and death, of energy and the devouration of it by the hungry jaws of time. Or, in this case, by the Dark Vala. He prowled around me, surprisingly quick for one with no light in his gaze. His footsteps fell in tune to the Discord that emanated from his ëalar, a thudding beat at such a frequency that it tore apart all those who heard it, burrowing into their minds and slowly driving them insane. With his every stride, the beat reduced in its muddiness, swirling into a cacophony of notes with a clear, high timbre that vibrated through his surroundings with such force that the very protons about him threatened to tear apart from their nucleus and release such energy that would have destroyed the plane upon which we stood. I hummed softly, revealing my call for peace through the highs and lows of the pitch. He stopped pacing, his Music abruptly slamming into a suspenseful quiet that spoke of the low rumblings of a storm to come. He appeared to be picking apart my offer, analyzing it in ways unlike mine, in ways dictated not by the logicality of his Music but by strange musings that gave light to creations many of the Valar could only dream of. The Discord leapt into lifelessness about him once more in reply. The melody was violent and ended sharply, an insult to my warm, rustling proposal. But of course, I could only expect as much by one who let his morality be blurred, who ignored his own Music in favor of physical sensations that had no mind nor rhythm to them.  
“So be it, then.” My voice consiste of the vibrations of bubbles of air, forming and bursting within my throat, each pop a sweet, new note. The Dark Vala - Melkor - replied not, merely snarling like the animal he was. My Music roared at the thought. That comparison was rather tuneless towards the animals. He seemed to respond better to physical sounds, though, and so I spoke again, “At least give my husband’s Maia back. He is an innocent thing, and has done no wrong to deserve corruption at your claws.” Melkor did not appear to expect this, because his Discord faltered, if only for a second. Then it was back, more viscous than before, his ëalar sucking in all the energy about him in a manner reminiscent of a black hole; forever hungry, never satisfied no matter how much he devoured, a senseless beast that could not communicate with logic and obeyed no reason beyond the laws of physics. He finally spoke, his breaths coming in quick, sharp bursts that were accompanied by a soaring, high, clutter of notes.  
“That Maia is too far gone already, I am afraid. He is chained to my will, and you cannot save him.” He spoke the truth. There was a sharp, painful stab in my chest at that, a notion that I had never experienced before. At first I wondered if I had been hit with some weapon, but it was not so. I never had such a response to mere words before, and it did not happen again, so I thought nothing of it.  
“Then he will fall alongside you, down the dark path to doom that you have carved for yourself.” I pronounced the words with a sudden clarity, a glimpse into the dancing melody of the future that was granted to Ainur in rare bursts of Song. His face contorted at that, and screeched a Note that seemed utterly dissonant, no melody, no thought, simply unbridled Music that shredded my ëalar and burst atoms around him, a chain reaction that screamed about us, destroying every trace of life. I watched the plants fluttering about me crumble to ash. Melkor had opened his mouth to reply, with what words I did not know and did not care to hear. I writhed around until my back was to him, and crawled back into the earth, taking the soft breath of life with me. Later, I wondered how he had replied. Perhaps if I had listened, I would not be suffering from this ache in my chest. Ainur could not fall ill. Neither I nor Aulë had any explanation for it, and when later it dissipated entirely, I assumed it to have been some abnormal cancer that had been momentarily strong enough to take root within me, before my immune system had blasted it to pieces. I did not realize, until many centuries later when the Children of Eru first arose to explain such things, that what I had been feeling had been the strange and inexplicable emotion of sadness. Melkor did, in fact, later tell me what he had said, the flaming darkness in his gaze no less accusing than before.  
_“You do not understand that he would gladly follow me down that path of his own will. The only thing he is a slave to is his own heart, and trust me when I say that sometimes that can be the cruelest Master of them all.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! This was my first proper long fic, and I'm still a little starstruck by the fact that I actually finished a lengthy product. I hope you have a nice day, dear reader! <3


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